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

Wednesday, September 17, 2014


13 comments:

  1. thank you nene and dirk))

    for me, in one instance this is a continuation of the hilda morley poem, "Sea-Map" -

    so always the eyes are lifted higher,
    the pulse buoyed upward
    with them
    So it
    should be for us all—
    to belong to
    whatever moves us outward into
    the wideness, for journeying...


    so much intensity in that brow. man so busy perceiving!

    that i love this specific man so intensely ... this man! and that which we do not see that he perceives, how this necessarily becomes a part of him too, and how it becomes in turn something that lodges itself inside of the love i have for him. the whole world ebbs out from this point of perception into white space and is held inside of him, and by its influence makes him.

    xo
    erin

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  2. Replies
    1. but who couldn't capture the importance of each twigged hair of the beard, the brow pulled back, the perfect gridwork of skin, the slats of light and shadow on glass, the seductive mouth that speaks words! this is quite simply the world! man, so complex and darling, perceiving the rest of it.

      xo
      erin

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  3. Mygod, even the nostrils are so expressive...

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  4. This is a great shot! You can almost count the individual whiskers.

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    1. and each whisker so beautiful!

      the other day i found a hair on the seat in my car. at first i thought it was one of my own and then i realized it was a whisker:)

      xo
      erin

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  5. this reminds me of Rembrandt:)-really, his,your power of seeing so close somebody's way to live,to watch, to breath...so deep like the day light. monumental!

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    1. when someone like this lives so deeply and looks so completely at the world it is impossible to miss.

      xo
      erin

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  6. i am looking at this and i am reading a passage in Musil (the Man without Qualities) which somehow seems to resonate with this photo, in a very deep and intimate way:

    To be sure, she did not know
    what lay ahead, but she felt it was the unremitting duty of lovers to
    always be to each other what they had been in their finest moments.
    And here was her arm, here were her legs, her head was poised on
    her body, in awesome readiness to be the first in recognizing the sign
    that could not fail to appear.

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    1. ((( ! ))))) (i think of the story of bread you so generously gave me years ago and i long for it still, the story and the essence of the story, the chance of perhaps managing some semblance of success.)

      i can only be thankful that i have failed so often before with others that perhaps i might try hardest now.

      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))