il y a des moments dans la vie qui nous lessent des impressions inatendues. I’ll always remember that playground, that slightly windy fall day spent musing over breakfast and walking through the museum. Some things imprint themselves in our minds without our knowing it; The very spot where your lips meet at the corner, the soft flesh of the palm of your hand runing along my face, the gentle touch of your fingertips tracing my features, the heat of your breath before our lips meet or even moments such as watching you absorb new information, or watching your mind and eyes wrap around a photo you’d like to take. Some things in life will never look the same because of the imprint you’ve left, i’ll never walk past a playground in the fall without feeling as though i ought to have my hand wraped around someone’s arm, holding myself close to them as we walk.