There are entire cultures who will not let you take their picture. They feel that photographs take part of their soul. Most photographers don’t take such people seriously because their cameras don’t do that.

Mine does.  

I used to feed through paintings, but then the camera came along. Fast food, as it were. The click of the shutter, the explosion of the flash lamp, and the flow of a soul fragment into my camera gave me the quiet comfort of knowing that I would eat well that night.  Then I’d move on to the next town before the telltale signs of soul-theft began to manifest.  Railroad workers paving the way west? Travelers leaving the dust bowl in search of greener pastures? Group photos were a veritable feast.  First sepia, then black and white, but the souls caught inside my camera were tiny, color-filled orbs of delicious delight.

Of course, times change, and cameras became both popular and digital. I worried about my ability to feed myself, of the time it takes to learn a new way of harvesting soul energy. Such things aren’t easy.

Then by chance, I landed in LA.  It’s one thing to ask people for a picture and hope they don’t inquire about your camera. It’s an entirely different thing when food walks up to your door and offers itself. Of course, out here nobody looks twice at soulless idiots.             

Excuse me, Kim Kardashian is calling. She loves my black and whites.
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I don’t know if WordPress has been through a change, or if my site is just acting wonky, but I can’t post the credit under the picture like I normally do. The credit for this photo belongs to congerdesign from Pixabay.