"I never knew I wanted to be a geographer until I saw your body"
"If I was more socially adept I probably wouldn’t take pictures. But I’m not. So I do. I look at you and all I need is a glass wall between the two of us for you to come alive, as if you weren’t alive already. To come alive for me specifically like one of those hothouse flowers that only bloom at night. I put the glass there and the machine here and I ask you for small things, little favors, lie down, open your blouse, lift your hair that way, pull your bra down the other way. You doing these things for me is a way of moving oceans, shifting continents, creating new landmasses, shadows, thunderstorms, earthquakes. I want to map all of your cavities. Pressing the button is my way of loving you more."
Text and photos Autumn Sonnischen
The same analogy I can apply to having lovers rather then deeper, more committed relationships. The structure of those relationships was the glass shield of the camera: An intimacy that was contrived (but not unreal) and emotionally safe (but not totally). Eventually, the heart wants what it wants. There comes a time to put down the camera and try without it.