an old photograph

One comes to value the writings they created when engaged in a relationship upon losing touch with that person and period of time. How many times have you heard someone speak in surprise of the joy of reading old journals."At the time I thought it was shit. But I wrote a lot when I was with her." I see few exceptions to this sort of utterance should anybody fancy themselves an artist of any kind. I am no exception to this observation, I percieve more mystery and intrigue in that me than I was ever able to percieve while she was still with me then. Like a photograph taken in summer and seen again, but for the first time some months later during the winter-only then can the picture be appreciated for all that it represents- for the window of life and time which it captures.