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

Saturday, December 13, 2014

transitory passion

trying to hold to form


  1. When I received your bird, roof, snow, I was listening to Joni Mitchell singing "Barangrill" and her words melded with your images and words. Movement, stillness, we need to get lost in it, one and the other, one after the other, and remember that all is transitory, but we can appreciate it in stillness.

    The guy at the gaspumps
    He's got a lot of soul
    He sings Merry Christmas for you
    Just like Nat King Cole
    And he makes up his own tune
    Right on the spot
    About whitewalls and windshields
    And this job he's got
    And you want to get moving
    And you want to stay still
    But lost in the moment
    Some longing gets filled
    And you even forget to ask
    "Hey, Where's Barangrill?"

  2. what a serendipitous moment! i`m so happy for things like this happening, so grateful)))

    there is another kind of strength in truth born in your perception of the photos. the bird isn`t scurrying against snow, but brick laid out front of a marina building. even the brick is insubstantial in the flux of time.

    and this amazes me - the body of the bird seems to be lost in the second shot. the bird has moved so quickly he has opened up into an organ only, no head. it`s not a good photograph but it makes me uncomfortable and if it makes me uncomfortable then it is doing something.

    it`s a wonder we are here densely enough in this moment for this exchange.



"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))