not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

existence, part vii (we try to inhabit this world)



inside of this sentence is an idea
around its perimeter i push the sand
do you see it?


man is like this, too


what idea do we contain?
who sees us?

12 comments:

  1. Erin,
    A great idea in itself..and great execution...as always....

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    1. manik, i don't think it's an idea at all, but instead - reality.))

      xo
      erin

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  2. That man must have grown from the ground because he belongs in this picture.

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    1. in so many different ways (man of the earth, man to return to the earth) you are so right)))

      xo
      erin

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  3. But why we insist on pushing the sand? Except that inhabit it.

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    1. damaso, it is good to see you again))

      why insist on pushing the sand? do we know any other way? what if we choose to just stand? make no sound? use no words? are we even here then? is it not that thing which makes us human that compels us to name, to understand, to stand and be seen?

      xo
      erin

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  4. I just LOVE your images... are these digital??

    If so, what photo editor do you use?

    ~shoes~

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    1. thank you, red shoes))

      i shoot with a nikon d300. i admit two things, well, anything anyone asks, really, but i have a very good camera and i don't really know what i'm doing, but rather i learn through playing. i process my raw out of adobe bridge and then draw the images to adobe photoshop. mostly though i like to play with exposure, shutter speed and aperture as i shoot, but as i say, i am only learning through experimentation. light is everything.

      xo
      erin

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  5. Others see us but do we see ourselves? I sometimes wonder..

    We can push all the sand we want but in the end it us who has to clean it up.

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    Replies
    1. liz! this is exactly my next question! i post it tomorrow morning. how serendipitous!

      xo
      erin

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  6. do we, glenn? do we really? or do we see only variations, hopes, prejudices, reflections? i could go on. do we really see? can we? or can we ever only sense that which inhabits the center and push toward it to reveal its form?

    and what idea do we contain? do we reflect some greater significance? what does it mean to have man alive and being? all of that work in each life to carve a place and why? we know its transience. we know it. and so why? (it drives me crazy to sense an answer and to lose it like a thread.)

    xo
    erin

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"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))