There are pictures from my childhood that have a grainy, muted quality. I'm not sure if it's an issue of the passage of time, the quality of the paper or the lack of training of the photographer. I find them absolutely enchanting. There is an electricity that passes from them, reminding me of the space between Wendy's home and Peter Pan's Neverland. These photographs represent a sweet time that seems to exist in another place. Every once in a while I take a picture of the girls with the flash off and I recapture that same feel. To some it may be a bad picture, to me it's a little bit of Neverland. I see that in today's picture of a napping Avery.
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