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

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

light and shadow






it was quarter past five.  this day.  i was wearing a blue scarf.  the pigeons had landed with their feet out and their bodies leaning backward on the roof and were escaping in through the opening, first through the snow and then in through the structure itself.  he was arriving soon.  the children were at home on the couch, their bodies warm, their femurs a certain length, their mouths held unthinking and open as they breathed.  i was making my way to the forest.  the snow was deep and it would be work but welcome work for my body.  it would never happen this way again.
 

12 comments:

  1. This day, and its details, all adding to one thing, the consonance of the moment. The transitory beauty of it. The photos are foreboding in black and white, in angles that stop your penetrating deeper into the space.
    Everyone here is waiting.
    Everyone is expected back home,and I hope they all do before dark.

    The last line takes me somewhere else.



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    Replies
    1. rosaria, i really like you mentioning the angles and what they do. i hadn't thought of this.

      always, always with that last line, eh? it's not mine, you know. it's the world's.

      xo
      erin

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  2. Ms. Tiny Leaf, it seems that you are more atuned more often than most...how are you today?

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    Replies
    1. this day? (so many days after this post.) good. fine. very good:) you?

      xo
      erin

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  3. Ici, l'on entre, comme par hasard, sans être vraiment invité, dans ta vie. Et cette lumière "invasive" qui fend l’obscurité permet de découvrir la vérité de l'instant. Ce que tu as fait dans ce récit, cette tranche de vie, où nous serons devenus spectateurs d'une scène intime qui n'aura duré que quelques secondes.
    L'éphémère de la photo, rejoint celui du Verbe.
    Très poétique.

    Belle soirée, à toi.

    Roger

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    Replies
    1. no, no, roger, you have been invited, but the chance is always there too.)))

      xo
      erin

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  4. I want to go through that passage [with you but alone too].

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    1. ruth, we have been watching this house for years. at first it was only empty and derelict and then the pigeons found their way in. but a year or so ago my son and i were out on a bike ride and there was a man on a ladder fixing the roof. we stopped and chatted with him. i didn't tell him but i was sad for the renovations, sad the pigeons would lose their home. it seems the town had demanded him to make repairs. but heh, the hand of man will not last so long. how happy i was to see the pigeons find their way in again! it is a great joke for me each time i see them land and find their way in.

      but this is not the passage you are talking about, is it? :)))

      xo
      erin

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  5. Beautiful shot, beautiful lights and shadows
    Greetings
    W.

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    1. and white, what a moment! of course, it is but a moment and then it is over. this is what gives significance to everything. it is heartbreaking.

      xo
      erin

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  6. it would never happen this way again.

    (this breaks me, but you are wiser than me :-)

    There's a certain slant of light,
    On winter afternoons,
    That oppresses, like the weight
    Of cathedral tunes.

    Heavenly hurt it gives us;
    We can find no scar,
    But internal difference
    Where the meanings are.

    None may teach it anything,
    'Tis the seal, despair,-
    An imperial affliction
    Sent us of the air.

    When it comes, the landscape listens,
    Shadows hold their breath;
    When it goes, 't is like the distance
    On the look of death.

    Emily Dickinson

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    Replies
    1. roxana, i am no wiser. why would you think so? because i say it happens? love, i die each time.)))

      xo
      erin

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