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

Monday, September 9, 2013

summer readies herself to go


but already the iris is gone.

is there not one thing but anticipation or memory?

20 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. i'm not sure, lily. (deb?) i'm not sure.

      xo
      erin

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  2. there is a ferocity and sense of defiance in that iris.

    i think we live between anticipation and memory. and i wish i could hover there, knowing that this is the place where we can make time stand still.

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    1. amanda, i like your appraisal of the iris. i find the skin of the iris the most heart breaking, the most intimate. our truth seems to lie there.

      xo
      erin

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  3. Oh God, yes, moments are hardly ever savored; just anticipating and reconstructing from memory.

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    Replies
    1. even savoring them, rosaria, i find their sweetness an assault, not an unpleasant assault, but an assault in the place where i can not hold them long enough to give them their due reverence. perhaps this is why you say they are not savored. can they ever receive justice, each moment a miracle, each moment worthy of a photograph, a poem, a prayer?

      xo
      erin

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  4. Seriously...right???!! My Iris's were gone by June this year...

    My Bottle Brush bush is blooming again (the bright red flowers really looks like a bottle brush) and there were little yellow butterflies all over it this morning. My hummingbirds are swarming like bees around the feeders I have up, readying for their flights even further south to High Island, TX and beyond. I marvel at their wisdom, then I feel time's passing like the shadow of a Hawk that recently passed over me while I was walking to the mailbox. He made me stop and look up, Erin, and for a few fleeting moments I was in the present, but, then.....

    Is there really such a thing as the present, or is it all past and future? Do you ever wonder that? I was 42 when my oldest grandson was born and now he's a senior and preparing for college next year. WTF??? How did that happen? Just yesterday I was at his birth and changing his shitty diapers??? I do try to relish the present, but time never stops, so, really, can there even be a present when time is ever moving? Truly, we can never step into the same river twice. Love you! xoxo

    "The clock talked loud. I threw it away, it scared me what it talked." ~Tillie Olsen

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    1. marion, you give good example of the bounty that can not be understood. my mind hurts to consider it all. even only the hawk. even only the hawk's shadow. how on earth are you a grandmother? how am i a mom? i swear, you and i were just twelve and playing ball.

      actually, we all played ball tonight, my children, a friend, james and i, and the adults certainly hooted and acted up as much as the children. to think that we will all, one day, be gone, not even a memory. to think that today we are here!

      xo
      erin

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  5. litt mer beskjæring på venstre side, men eller er det knall bra !

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    1. dirk, i have to smile at this immediately. i am not concerned with perfect photographs. can not be. i would no longer be myself. i considered removing the light moving in on the left but who am i to fool with the perfection of imperfection? :) truly. there are many many very fine photographers. i am not one of them. i am a woman exploring.

      xo
      erin

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  6. erin, I appreciate, very much, your eye, your intent of capturing this beautiful from the left. It did escape the light. Did you have your right eye closed (LOL) when you captured this creative rendition. I thougt this whole wonderful take was rhetorical just for observing/appreciating. Didn't know it requested analysis and judgement. Dang, I wish I would have know that. I would have given you my opinion (lol)

    Gracias mi amiga

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    Replies
    1. we all come with our own perceptions. i don't mean to fault dirk at all. he's an accomplished photographer. i only mean not to disappoint him in the future by letting him know we are made of different fabric. but then he would have gathered this by now, i'm sure:)

      the relativity of time. of course. and more tomorrow, yes, if tomorrow comes.

      thank you dear friend))

      xo
      erin

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  7. It's a reasonable question. The present is so .... fluid.

    I watched a film called "The Wingless Bird" in 3 episodes last week, and there was a scene in snow. I thought I'd die for joy. It's not that I want time to pass, but I do love what happens to me in the winter.

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    1. do we get to hold to the moment more in winter, ruth? is that what it is, everything reduced so that it seems there is less change in a moment? i love winter too. i cherish it. i imagine living in a world closer to winter and by this i wonder at myself for surely spring will come even in my dreams but it comes slower, again more reduced. is it the purity we want? the uninterrupted? the one red berry against the snow?

      xo
      erin

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  8. Replies
    1. god willing and a little luck, yes)))

      xo
      erin

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  9. I meant to say:...this beautiful Iris from the left.

    Love your artistic eye and take.

    Also, like what Marion said; saw the shadow of a Hawk passing by, forced me to look up.

    Time is a relative term. the iris will bloom again, just like the trees in the forest that grow more beautiful after a fire storm and oh, the nascence of new flora.

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  10. exactly because of its fleetingness, it seems that there is nothing else, but the present - or so the old masters teach :-)

    (the iris tears through my heart)

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    1. roxana, those old masters are too wise for me. i only want to be wise but am not. you can't imagine how i mourn the moment that evaporates...not even in my hands! my hands are empty! but when there is such beauty (and there is such beauty!) how to bear such empty hands! (i want to hold it, not to own it or stop it, but to kiss it, to give thanks.) but i try and try and try and try and try. i am the dog chasing not only its tail, at times, the shadow of its tail.

      could the present be the knife that cuts your heart? i do believe it is that sharp. (are you overpowered, roxana, at times, the skin of the iris enough to make you tremble? i imagine you are.)

      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))