My heart has always felt very moved by music. Especially music played in the key of melancholy. It seems to stir the emotions that cling to the walls of my heart. Soft melodies coaxing out the stuck part of me. When I was a young girl, music was my thing. I was forever humming a tune or singing along to the record player. I went from achingly beautiful crescendos that would leave me breathless, to heart breaking quiet held within caverness echoes. The music simply dimmed inside of me, it became a waistland of sorts. I'm not sure how it happened, it seemed to follow on the heels of a very dark time in my life. As the volume reseeded, a ticker tape of words began to grow in it's place. We seem to be in a constant state of flux. As one thing is removed, another blooms in it's place. Floating words began flowing thru the centre of my core and when reached for, a connection to secret passages began revealing the hidden truth inside of me. Where my voice once crooned with melodies, written passion now sounded my hearts cry. Our stories linger within deep grooves that long to find their perfect pitch and tone in this world. Self expression. Are we not all trying to find a way of leaving our mark on this world. It's as if to say, "Hey, I was here." I often see people graffiti their names onto walls and carve declarations of love into soft places. Perhaps we do this to make a statement of remembrance, that I once walked this earth and my Love was true, so please don't forget me. I think that's why I love documenting my life through photography. It will always stand as my expression of the way I saw the world and the beauty in it.