My family and I took a vacation to Louisiana two years ago where we visited numerous plantation homes, learning a brief history about each one. Fascinated, I shot photographs of unique rooms and objects I considered interesting or beautiful from a spectator's point of view. A few weeks later the film developed, and as I flipped through each photograph I discovered a beautiful piece of American history.
             One particular photograph caught my eye because of its amazing contrast to eighteenth century life; pure and simplistic with no rough edges. The room in the photograph contained dark, shiny hardwood floors, flowing drapes and curtains glowing with white light, and an antique crib laden in the middle.
             I allowed my imagination to take over as I slowly envisioned young newlyweds preparing for the birth of their first child. They would undoubtedly spend countless hours finding the right accessories to compliment their child's room, and they would both experience the same joy as two became three, forming a perfect family. I also picture the young mother holding her child and lulling it to sleep with the soothing sound of her angelic voice.
             In the photograph, bursts of sunlight enter the room at every angle, and I imagine a household servant cleaning the child's room, longing for a breath of fresh air. Perhaps she gazes outside the window and thinks of memories back home where freedom, love, and family waits. She caresses the frame of the crib and weeps as her mind becomes flooded with images of her children that she may not see grow up because of society's narrow-minded opinions.
             No matter what daydreams fill my mind when I think about this room, I know they are all worth a thousand words.
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