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Reading your post made me think about what convergence feels like for me. Often, it feels like looking through a lens of a camera, not just the physical one, but an invisible lens shaped by memory, movement, and meaning, blended through time, emotion, and perspective.

Perspective converges with magic. Magic with trust. Trust with chance. And somewhere in that convergence, something true begins to emerge.

This is what true—and honest—convergence feels like to me: perspective in motion, like a quiet rebirth, again and again. It makes me think of a lens refocusing, capturing the blur between moments. Sometimes, that blur reveals beauty that’s been hidden or obscured. It’s not always sharp, but it’s always real—and often surprising.

What I love most about photography—especially non-digital—is that you don’t always see the moment until later, when the film is developed. You must trust there’s something there—something magical—even if you don’t yet understand it. Kind of like life. Sometimes, a person’s path is unclear, the journey unfocused, the outcome still waiting to be discovered. But choosing to move forward anyway—to trust your eye, your instinct, your self—that’s the magic. That’s convergence. Maybe the most honest kind. It’s the moment all the scattered pieces of your own jigsaw begin to edge closer—still incomplete, still shifting—but slowly forming something that feels like truth. And truth, especially personal truth, I’m realising is what it’s all about.

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