Daisuke YokotaUntitled

I look at a photograph. It’s a photograph I took in the past.
It was not so long ago that I took the photograph. Enough time has passed, however, that I cannot clearly recall the time when I shot the photograph.
What was I thinking when I took this photograph? I probably did not mean anything special, but I must have been conscious of something.
What was that consciousness? I cannot recall. Or perhaps I no longer know such consciousness.
If I shot the photograph, I must have been present at the scene in which the photograph was taken. The photograph exists as a connection between the photographic subject, camera, and me.
The photograph remains mainly unchanged, while experience changes memory. The memory and the photograph were created in the same place but they exist differently in time.
The past appears fixed, but transforms according to changes in my consciousness.