This next photo is of a man that noticed my camera, and secretly waved me over. So I went. We began a photography discussion, and at some point he pulled out this lens (I still don't exactly know what kind it was) and whipped in on my camera...over the existing lens. Then proceeded to place his eye inches from my camera and insisted I take a picture. We were so close. He did not know the meaning of personal space, and for that moment, I had to let any perception I had about personal space go. Therefore I took a picture of his eye...very close with all the wonderful bushy-ness of his eyebrow.
I only wish I had the wits about me to take a photo of him...but he had me rather at a disadvantage. He was older. Arabic. Short. Creamy brown skin with deep set wrinkles. Many smile lines. A full, gloriously white beard that went to his chest. And, you can see the twinkle in his eye.
|"The seat of the soul is there where the inner and outer worlds meet."|
¸.•*´¨`♥ Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth
Then he grabbed my hand, and placed my ring close to the lens. So the next photo is of my ring...while I'm holding the camera with one hand, focusing, metering, and trying not to bobble. Not an easy feat. Each heart beat made the world shake, so I snapped between beats.
Southern Candymakers REALLY are the best praline makers. I can testify to that.