There was a woman taking a nap on the granite bench that curves along the river walk running through downtown Providence. She had on several layers of clothing despite the warm August sun, and used her backpack as a pillow. I stood photographing city architecture from my place nearby. She must have heard the click of the camera's shutter . "No pictures of me," she said sitting up to swing her legs up on the bench in the opposite direction. "No, I wouldn't. I won't," I assured her. Then I asked, " Do people take your picture?" Truly, I'd thought briefly of doing so--a photo journalistic impulse, a poignant documentation of the sadder, sorrier side of life. In honesty, I might have taken a picture had I been using my zoom lens from farther away where she might not have noticed me. I've been tempted at other times, with other homeless folk, although something always holds me back from what feels like a blatant invasion of privacy. "
Life is a series of snapshots meant to be recorded in words. A writer and photographer shares hers.