A guy from Baltimore.
The title of this post comes from a great line in a poem accompanying this photo.
In the full context of the poem it’s implied that love is the lamp held in one hand. I’m enjoying rolling that image around in my brain. The lamp doesn’t hang on a peg at your house while you try to stay within its radius — the love isn’t only love while you’re nearby. Instead you carry it with you and it helps you navigate the rest of the world. And what do you do with your free hand? The one not holding the lamp? And no matter what you do with that free hand, aren’t you a little restricted in your movements and actions by not having two hands available to help? Wouldn’t it be easier if you had both hands free, so maybe you’re tempted to put down the lamp for awhile sometimes?
Love is a lamp held in one hand. Great, full image.