i am the mist, the rope and the board---the eye and the lens of the camera. i am the root grasping the rock beneath the rose. we are... xo
marion, i love this, " i am the root grasping the rock beneath the rose."the other day james and i saw tall pines toppled by wind up on an escarpment. one of the pines revealed a rock it pulled up with it, and only a handful of dirt around its roots. and yet it had been determined and took hold there and grew for many decades. incredible. unbelievable really.xoerin
I've noted to myself, Erin is undergoing a transformation, a major transformation...All around us, the world is changing. I have never felt this unstable, fluid, and so I see you that way too; and by seeing you, I notice something about myself...
rosaria, we have one foot in this world and the other foot in the other. of course this is always the way, it's just that we are noticing these stumps at the bottom of our legs right now, or just how little earth our roots need to grow too.xoerin
oh, is this real??! (now it is my turn to ask ;-)can it be? this vision, at the cutting edge of two worlds being born (or disappearing) into each other? and you were there, to be the ground for these roots to grow, to expand...
roxana, yes, it is real:) or at least this is as it truly appeared to me through the window of an abandoned building, the world on both sides, but how different the world in each manifestation. in a way the photo reminds me of braille, the tactile world, another translation waiting to happen.xoerin
I must not read the words, for now. :) The image takes my breath. I feel that if it went on to the right, it would become your hair. We are all mirrored in everything. Everything is mirrored in us. If we would but see it.
the interconnectedness, ruth, has become easier for me as of late (but was insurmountable before). the part i don't understand any more is the separateness, the uniqueness in our separate articulations. lately that has been blowing my mind.xoerin
"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))