I love this, WB. I like walls, in general, and those are fabulous (the first two in particular). It's almost like one can read them like a poem. I think I can, actually, I see words, lines, paragraphs, rhymes... Great post!
I wonder if a draught pauses for a moment,and owing to its eccentricity,admires them..i would..perhaps because nobody would see me doing it..as i'm sure nobody is right now..i's sure this is a secluded place..Glad you've built one..and let us peek once in a while..
These readings in history create contemplative spaces much as passing lift stops as one scrolls down. A temporal mine-shaft or "Sweet Cheat Recaptured" sense, I mean to say, in the successive descending views of Time stealthily becoming, taking up and finally overcoming Space, even as it is thought to have been brushed aside by events of presumptive Moment.
As, that in which is held the passerby of photo #4, who here, avoiding the present by (as she would suppose) securing Moment, on a handheld social monitoring / tracking device, enters a History (technological history and History now growing ever harder to keep separate) which overwhelms her without her ever having paused to look at it. Tree, sky or wall, same same when it comes to the things that no one has to look at any more because they were occupied with checking their texts. Yet it was the last chance.
That phrase indeed is summoned upon arrival by the "cooler" columnar composition in #5, which recalls a classic photo. Time has become space, and fear of falling goes on forever, as if frozen by the (social, historical) medium.
An anecdotal but recurrent (sixth time through, now) question: do you suppose that white tile in the top shot once contained a street name? In any case my caption: Street With No Name.
Time was the subject here, the thing that grabbed the attention. Very glad you picked up on that, Tom. I've always been fascinated by those church interiors, where the shifts from the Saxon to the Norman can be so plainly traced.
The woman in photo four was almost a goner. I had an image prior to her passing that I thought of using.
I've been pegging a few notes myself..You'll see how one of them orphaned and without any resolve,sat there in my files..This is your baby..Claim it
Waiting for the Bus 7:14 am.(Bus note)
Late buses arrive, and it is almost worthwhile now, to note the ones that do Mornings however,can be worse, emptying teacups deluged by your listlessness
I love this, WB. I like walls, in general, and those are fabulous (the first two in particular). It's almost like one can read them like a poem. I think I can, actually, I see words, lines, paragraphs, rhymes...
ReplyDeleteGreat post!
I wonder if a draught pauses for a moment,and owing to its eccentricity,admires them..i would..perhaps because nobody would see me doing it..as i'm sure nobody is right now..i's sure this is a secluded place..Glad you've built one..and let us peek once in a while..
ReplyDeleteThese readings in history create contemplative spaces much as passing lift stops as one scrolls down. A temporal mine-shaft or "Sweet Cheat Recaptured" sense, I mean to say, in the successive descending views of Time stealthily becoming, taking up and finally overcoming Space, even as it is thought to have been brushed aside by events of presumptive Moment.
ReplyDeleteAs, that in which is held the passerby of photo #4, who here, avoiding the present by (as she would suppose) securing Moment, on a handheld social monitoring / tracking device, enters a History (technological history and History now growing ever harder to keep separate) which overwhelms her without her ever having paused to look at it. Tree, sky or wall, same same when it comes to the things that no one has to look at any more because they were occupied with checking their texts. Yet it was the last chance.
That phrase indeed is summoned upon arrival by the "cooler" columnar composition in #5, which recalls a classic photo. Time has become space, and fear of falling goes on forever, as if frozen by the (social, historical) medium.
An anecdotal but recurrent (sixth time through, now) question: do you suppose that white tile in the top shot once contained a street name? In any case my caption: Street With No Name.
In short, swell post, Dunc.
Thank you, Marie, Manik and Tom
ReplyDeleteTime was the subject here, the thing that grabbed the attention. Very glad you picked up on that, Tom. I've always been fascinated by those church interiors, where the shifts from the Saxon to the Norman can be so plainly traced.
The woman in photo four was almost a goner. I had an image prior to her passing that I thought of using.
I've been pegging a few notes myself..You'll see how one of them orphaned and without any resolve,sat there in my files..This is your baby..Claim it
ReplyDeleteWaiting for the Bus 7:14 am.(Bus note)
Late buses arrive,
and it is almost worthwhile now,
to note the ones that do
Mornings however,can be worse,
emptying teacups
deluged by your listlessness
Buses are forever arriving late all corners. There's a warm seat here at WB Travel Services.
ReplyDeleteOne can probably find more time-consuming interests than wall capturing but in this instance, the more you stay, the less you want to flee. Nice.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Vassilis. Glad you could come over and get a little wall-eyed.
ReplyDelete