A few words from T.S. Eliot today –
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,
The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed
With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness
on darkness, nd we know that the hills and the trees, the distant
Today we have snow again after some tantalizing days of warmer weather, teasing, hinting at relief…
It has been the guest that wouldn’t leave, this winter.
So I’ve been revisiting some pix from the ice storm we had in December.
Mostly I stuck with macro – I love the details of it, the tiny worlds within worlds.
And have been experimenting a little with textures (most often from Kim Klassen’samazing…
Recently I’ve been taking a lot of photos of feathers.
Seems an odd thing to be obsessed with, but have been trying to tell myself to just roll with it, see where it leads me.
Looking over the pictures I’ve got so far, it seemed like maybe they got more interesting when juxtaposed with another texture – something quite opposite, something cold and hard and smooth, next to their soft and supple and…
Threshold of the subway doors, humans and hints of animal beyond - Threshold of a slinky bus, during a morning commute, he studies his phone, bathed in light - …
They’ve been sitting in a folder in the basement, old old work prints that never quite got finished, and are here scanned.
In the alleyway just down from my house, there’s the expected graffiti on the garage doors, but more unusual are the bits of installation art that appear.
What do you treasure?