Normally I don't photograph dead things. Because normally I want to bury them, or otherwise pay some sort of respect, or otherwise soothe the deep discomfort that death seems to instill in me (often by walking right on by).
Today, however, I finally realized what it means to attempt to pay respect by making an image. Life is beautiful. Life is ugly. And ultimately, being afraid to bear witness to all of it mixed together is, well, being afraid.
For me, pigeons are dreams. And so for me, this pigeon deserved more from me than fear. I'm not sure I succeeded in what I was trying to do. Indeed, looking through the images I have made, I wonder if the meaning or memorial was more in those moments I shared with that dead pigeon than it was in the image I'm sharing with you, here. And I'm not sure what karma will think, if it even does. But I am glad I followed my desire to bear witness, despite feeling unsure and inadequate to the task.
I hope you feel something for this pigeon. I think it flew smack dead into a wall, and that was it. It sure looks knocked out. And if not for the pigeon, then I hope you feel something for the many around you who've had a dream or two knocked dead. Not sympathy. Maybe just compassion. Maybe just silent witness.
"death" got a noteworthy in Photo Friday's 'Best of 2011' challenge.