In 2016, I was given a Brownie Hawkeye camera. Sometimes I take it with me places. I do not feel pressure; I take pictures of whatever moves me. An amateur relief from the burden of language. There is no theme. Composition is the only craft element I know how to think about —color and light, lines and shapes next to each other. I do not think about the kind of film I use; I research it and cannot remember its properties by the time I click the square gray button. Months go by. I mail the film off to a developer and the pictures are emailed back to me. It is a way to keep surprise in my life. When I receive the images, I have often forgotten the things I tried to capture. As much as the images reflect a material moment, they also reflect an earlier version of my mind. I reacquaint myself with whatever I was.