My hand is raised, that's for sure.
You see, I just don't understand.
You can call me naive, but I honestly don't understand why half of humanity is embroiled in conflict, and the other half is hiding under the covers of their comfort zones.
The time: 1943
The place: The mountainous village of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, part of German-subdued France.
Hitler is lapping up frothy pools of power; innocent blood has become a substitute for rain water; fear governs.
And Le Chambon could care less.
War and hatred and apathy and cynical nonchalance are the spawn of closed eyes.
I am convinced of this.
If we, as the human race, could see the world stained in a different shade--through the eyes of different cultures and communities than our own--I sincerely believe that we would be more hesitant to point the finger or drop a bomb.
I doubt that you'll EVER read this, Sean, since the last time I saw you you had nothing to your name but a stubbly cigarette, but I feel the need to send you a message nonetheless.
I'm that tiny girl with the over-sized camera that sat next to you outside the homeless shelter. I was doing a documentary photography project for school, remember? I asked you if you were camera shy?
I'm a documentary kind of girl.
