I'm sorting through my pictures, tossing more than half of them in the process, leaving only the ones I would want to have printed and in albums (which I will eventually start to do as well).

When I ran to the picture above, I thought of tossing it, but then I got all emotional. And the idea for this blog post was born.

It's a blurred and crooked picture of the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, taken in October 2019.

When I look at that picture, I know it was taken after we went to a concert at either Paradiso or Melkweg, as the Rijksmuseum is on the way home back from the parking spot we always use when visiting either venue.

And I know I was happy, because a happy me always loves to get out the camera to take pictures of what I see.

If I think of the day it was taken, I know I was probably in pain, as I had an injury that was slow as molasses in healing.

Yet, I was happy to be there. I took a blurry picture because I was so joyful. My hand probably trembled, or the car probably swerved, and that made the picture blurred. Just like my memories of that day.

But when I look at this picture, all I do is smile at the perfect imperfection that is my life.