The closer one moves to the truth, the more the door becomes a mirror. Nice!
oh, yes, yes, yes!!!!!! and too, the more we draw closer the more intent the mirror becomes to spill over and through us and take over. we begin to wonder where real is, what real is, what real isn't? what energy there is in this world!(thank you, william. i try to follow your site but find a glitch with my computer. and too, please excuse me for my life is upside down in this moment and i am mostly away from blogging but i can not tell you enough my gratitude for your insights.))xoerin
it's all about bodies. the world that is. when you are away you are missed.you're giving us the opportunity to miss you.very generous.
andreas, you make me laugh)))) but yes, yes, i set down the smile to say, yes. the world is all about bodies, or so it seems. our bodies are vessels. what beyond? what beyond!? and vessels for what or for whom? again, i say, you, please read still blind by yves bonnefoy and then i give my self heck for i need to read it again, as well:)xoerin
ah yes! i forgot about that. i'll get right on it.
This is brilliant. When I was little I used to hang upside down and stare at the ceiling. The world up there looked to nice than my world. It was so white with those tiny shiny flecks. It was like a dream.
birdie, you always surprise and delight me with your youness:) i imagine you as a child. it is not difficult. this i mean as a compliment.xoerin
i find this two shots simply genial, you have such a creative and expressive way, you can so good transmit to us your feelings and this is not simple, i would to be able to explain my feelings in few words as you do. the pics are so genial Erin.. beautifull. as always you leave me thinking and this is so goodhave a nice day dear Erin
,,,seen through the keyhole,,uhhh, i mean door knob...uhhh are you on the side of being held in or are you looking back to the door that held you...no, i think, you transverse both planes...
"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))