Who is this?

Walking through Forest Hills Cemetery with camera in hand, there is a lot to look at. Such an array of ways to celebrate the departed. Perhaps that is on my mind more lately, for obvious reasons.

I aim to let go of judgment but it is hard. I don’t understand the elaborate crypts and mausoleums that cover dead bodies, and have, in some cases, for centuries. I suppose they were built to provide comfort. But they don’t seem comfortable to me, far from it. They seem formal, and, to me, off-putting. Then again, they are not my tombs.

I’m drawn to the statues, especially those that appear to have a personal element to them. And especially the ones that have stood in place, bending to the world and weather around them. I suppose I ought to know more about the people they memorialize but knowing that somehow would make this seem more invasive.

So I just capture the statue, not knowing the relationship to the body interred. This one, in particular, stops me for a moment as I imagine the life behind it.