Not alike

There's no denying that a small part of what draws most readers to fiction is curiosity bordering on nosiness. That I can understand. The characters are fictional, and books are meant to be read - no one's harmed. But much nosiness in real life is something I fail to empathize with. Perhaps some people have too much time on their hands, and no clue how to spend it. Maybe it's some sort of insecurity leading to jealousy or competitiveness, I just don't know. Friends of course know where to draw the line.

I had a conversation today on the phone where the person on the other end had a series of questions but no desire for answers. The worst was assumed, despite what the facts might be. How presumptuous is that! It's sad if we lose our ability to question, or more accurately, our appetite for the truth.

On a different note, I was looking through some good pictures and had a strange feeling. I felt there was no photographer. I thought I was looking at the scenes with my own eyes. If we assume we can account for the difference between the "reality" and the photo by the photographer, in this case there was none. A part of this is to do with the viewer no doubt, but this would surely be a sign for a good photo in my opinion.