When bad things happen to good photographers

Carmen Sisson

I wasn't thinking about you. I was happily minding my own business, walking strong and tall. Confident. Shooting from the hip, as they say.

It blind-sided me to suddenly be trapped, helpless, unable to escape. I panicked and the hunter became the prey. Your image sucked at my soul, reminding me that no matter how far I've come, no matter where my shoes have taken me, no matter what new paths I've walked, you're still there. Watching. Waiting. Seizing the moments when I'm happy and reminding me that deep down inside I'll never wash away the mud you left caked on me.

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