For as long as I can remember I have loved photographs. I tend to wander through my daily activities, examining my surroundings as though I am looking through the lens of my beloved camera, randomly framing and cropping images in my mind.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. That being said, I love seeing things in their imperfect states. The leaf that has fallen from its connection to life, settling into the wet autumn ground after being beaten down by rain and wind. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them settle into earth’s bed and together create a composite that is fascinating and pretty, even though most have lost their vibrant status by that time.

The flower with a bent stem and missing petals. It has character. Candid photos of a kid with bedhead and missing teeth, complete with evidence of a messy meal lingering on pudgy cheeks. Reminders that it’s okay to be carefree.

The elderly man with wrinkled, weathered hands signifying years of hard work. The aging woman with deep lines embedded in her sweet face. A face that has seen and endured much over the prior decades. The young lady with imperfect teeth but a huge smile. I most often find those with unusual or unwanted attributes to be the most charming and intriguing.

I love modern technology and I hate it. Mostly because we all seem to think the original state of things, mainly ourselves, isn’t good enough as is. Those of us in our 50’s seem to think we aren’t supposed to have “laugh lines,” graying hair and extra chins. Like a filter making us appear with even-toned skin, chiseled jaws and smooth, flawless skin is going to increase our worth. I’m as guilty as anyone about developing some sort of paranoia over how I look in photos. But why? Filters and advanced editing won’t change the me that you see when you’re standing in front of me.

It’s sort of ironic that I embrace and appreciate imperfections in everyone and everything but myself. Most can identify with this to some capacity, I would bet.

I’m going to keep looking around with my forgiving eye at the world around me, snapping “still lifes” in my head and sneaking candid pics of those I love and those I barely know. Life is interesting and imperfect and ugly and beautiful all at the same time.