On stormy October nights on the shores of Lake Michigan, she was drawn into an agreement: one hundred photographs a month in several languages; inspiration that was to become part of the narrative ultimatum. Watching the progress of the traveler through telescopes lost among distant inequalities. To find a volume of this theory, the representations of chimerical scenes shaded in hues adjacent to this light. These are the reflections of the weekend, when elapsed time proves the rendering of night high above the city limits dissolved upon her, superfluous in the ambition of this vision. Darkness approaches the alley from behind the then tinged day-glow gone, with the lake at my feet.
Assembling this sculpture in her studio against the backdrop of previous perfection, on the keys of ivory inhibitions, her eyes added investments to his talents; iridescent shadow in shades of ocean. As sentiments formulated from this tangled cohesion of love, lingering in spirals of gold thread amidst the silhouette. Strip away the muted layers to belie a genuine muse featuring the ingénue.
Affix blue masking tape to the windows, arranged and chaotic. A few leaves disturb the stillness. A few footsteps. And today I thought that this could make the books talk, lines laugh, script encoded in a moment. This is but chalk figure of cut outs makes you wonder what is beneath. What is not there creates a sense of intrigue. Place the photo on the right, weight the composition to the side, and balance. I want to capture eyes, messages under pocket flaps hand dyed in glass. Paint peeling off a wall, ceiling, something as elemental as fall foliage. Highlighting the manipulation of watercolors with heart stamped ellipses, the result of lost references, and soon I will be sleeping on snow.
The dream we come upon, lying awake, mind running back over her own history. Painting all these lights in the dark depicts an eclipse. In a pocket pastel, these lips lift to recite celadon ceilings. From visions made ethereal by flashes of recollection, above glitters with hammered meanings muted. What we discover here and elsewhere, is that she is playing out their fates in silhouette against a blank background.
Category Archives: la vie
these are the days that must happen to you:
March 28, 2008: the day I knew I wanted to pursue the medium of photography wholeheartedly. It had actually been years in the dreaming, as I began to think back to the various times I had tried and failed to make this medium mine. However, it was never a sacrificial state of mind. This new...