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

Saturday, June 7, 2014

on the tenaciousness of being
























7 comments:

  1. lovely. as i went from capture to capture, i was captured

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    1. it was not easy for me to leave that place of watching. who knew what would happen next, even after that particular bird had left.

      xo
      erin

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  2. What an amazing zoetrope this would be! I so love red-winged blackbirds. I was driving the other day and saw one on a wire and thought of you. (I think your bird up there ate a dragonfly, though...). :-O

    Oh, saying zoetrope (love the word) reminds me of a quarterly magazine I get by that name published by Francis Ford Coppola. It has some awesome stories in it: http://www.all-story.com/

    Love you, red-winged girl!!! xoxo

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    1. marion, you notice something so very important! even though i stood beneath this bird watching it for some time, when i considered the photographs i couldn't be sure if it was the same bird. what was suddenly in its beak? i could not remember ever seeing the bird descend low enough to grab a berry or bracken from the trees. it took a long time for me to realize it was an insect in its beak! ha! as though my mind could not consider something apparating from nothing. and yet some-things come from nothing all the time!

      i save your reference for later. unfortunately i work today:(

      xo
      erin

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  3. I'm thinking, what a tenacious photographer Erin is, contemplating life's forces through the act of capturing a bird on a wire. I feel like you're that bird, and I, the spectator now, contemplating how a person can and does accept what is/and what was and asks what the forces at play.

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    1. rosaria, i am an addict for such dramas as birds on lines. it's simple. i can't shake it:) i want us all to be tenacious like the bird and with such dramas. i see you gaining momentum:)

      xo
      erin

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  4. Thank you. Thank you for this slow looking.

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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))