The curtain falls.
The end.
The green gossamer hides
the view of the watery canal beyond.
The light shimmers through
the gauzy thin silk, the view hidden.
The cascading folds, delicate.
A thing of beauty.
Reminiscent of a beautiful ball gown you once wore.
And now, a goodbye, without closure, without resolution.
A gradual disappearance.
One can only imagine the future beyond, and the vista.
Goodbye.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
photography & absence
A friend came to see me in a dream.
From far away.
And I asked in the dream.
"Did you come by photograph of by train?"
All photographs are a form of transport
and an expression of absence. John Berger
From far away.
And I asked in the dream.
"Did you come by photograph of by train?"
All photographs are a form of transport
and an expression of absence. John Berger
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
the human parade
"There is no way back now.
I am going to take you on journeys
you've never dreamed were possible."
Alexander McQueen
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
the moon by sappho
the stars about the lovely moon
fade back and vanish very soon,
when, round and full, her silver face
swims into sight, and lights all space.
fade back and vanish very soon,
when, round and full, her silver face
swims into sight, and lights all space.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
who was mary hillier?
Mary Hillier was one of Julia Margaret Cameron's favourite models.
In her biographical statement Annals of my Glass House, Cameron wrote that Hillier
'has been one of the most beautiful and constant of my models,
and in every manner of form has her face been reproduced, yet never has it been felt
that the grace of the fashion of it has perished…The very unusual attributes of her character
and complexion of her mind…are the wonder of those whose life is blended with ours
as intimate friends of the house'.
In her biographical statement Annals of my Glass House, Cameron wrote that Hillier
'has been one of the most beautiful and constant of my models,
and in every manner of form has her face been reproduced, yet never has it been felt
that the grace of the fashion of it has perished…The very unusual attributes of her character
and complexion of her mind…are the wonder of those whose life is blended with ours
as intimate friends of the house'.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
my son loves rilke and so do I... (i echo him here)
And you inherit the green
of vanquished gardens
and the motionless blue of fallen skies,
[...]
You inherit the autumns, folded like festive clothing
in the memories of poets; and all the winters,
like abandoned fields, bequeath you their quietness.
You inherit Venice, Kazan, and Rome.
Florence will be yours, and Pisa's cathedral,
Moscow with bells like memories,
[...]
Sounds will be yours, of string and brass and reed,
and sometimes the songs will seem
to come from inside you.
[...]
And painters paint their pictures only
that the world, so transient as you made it,
can be given back to you,
to last forever.
RM Rilke
of vanquished gardens
and the motionless blue of fallen skies,
[...]
You inherit the autumns, folded like festive clothing
in the memories of poets; and all the winters,
like abandoned fields, bequeath you their quietness.
You inherit Venice, Kazan, and Rome.
Florence will be yours, and Pisa's cathedral,
Moscow with bells like memories,
[...]
Sounds will be yours, of string and brass and reed,
and sometimes the songs will seem
to come from inside you.
[...]
And painters paint their pictures only
that the world, so transient as you made it,
can be given back to you,
to last forever.
RM Rilke
Thursday, February 24, 2011
photograph as trace
Unlike any visual image, a photograph is not a rendering,
an imitation or an interpretation of its subject, but actually
a trace of it. No painting or drawing, however naturalist,
belongs to its subject in the way that a photograph does.
John Berger
an imitation or an interpretation of its subject, but actually
a trace of it. No painting or drawing, however naturalist,
belongs to its subject in the way that a photograph does.
John Berger
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
what we forget...
All photographs are there to remind us of what we forget.
In this -- as in other ways -- they are the opposite of paintings.
Paintings record what the painter remembers.
Because each one of us forgets different things,
a photo more than a painting may change its
meaning according to who is looking at it.
John Berger
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
on seeing
Seeing comes before words.
The child looks and recognises before it can speak.
But there is also another sense in which seeing comes before words.
It is seeing which establishes our place in the surrounding world;
we explain that world with words,
but words can never undo the fact that we are surrounded by it.
The relation between what we see and what we know
is never settled. John Berger
The child looks and recognises before it can speak.
But there is also another sense in which seeing comes before words.
It is seeing which establishes our place in the surrounding world;
we explain that world with words,
but words can never undo the fact that we are surrounded by it.
The relation between what we see and what we know
is never settled. John Berger
Monday, February 14, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
what is a photograph?
A friend came to see me in a dream.
From far away.
And I asked in the dream:
"Did you come by photograph or by train?"
All photographs are a form of transport and
an expression of absence.
John Berger
From far away.
And I asked in the dream:
"Did you come by photograph or by train?"
All photographs are a form of transport and
an expression of absence.
John Berger
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
a note to my son, stefan
what is interesting is that we are intersecting!
you have grown up and are writing about art.
i, who started my career late in life, am producing art.
i went back to school when i was 50, 13 years ago.
you and anthony were in shock that i would leave my
careet at the NFB! i remember.
i just wanted to immerse myself in photography and went
on to do my MA in visual arts.
and now, you are doing an MA in Art History.
and able to write about my work with somewhat of an objective eye
having watched me rebuild a career and evolve in
my photographic expression, stepping into a world that
is kind of a fictional narrative...
having come from a documentary film background...
every moment is two moments. Anne Michaels.
you have grown up and are writing about art.
i, who started my career late in life, am producing art.
i went back to school when i was 50, 13 years ago.
you and anthony were in shock that i would leave my
careet at the NFB! i remember.
i just wanted to immerse myself in photography and went
on to do my MA in visual arts.
and now, you are doing an MA in Art History.
and able to write about my work with somewhat of an objective eye
having watched me rebuild a career and evolve in
my photographic expression, stepping into a world that
is kind of a fictional narrative...
having come from a documentary film background...
every moment is two moments. Anne Michaels.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
of time, lost now at Art Mur in montreal
In of time, lost, Montreal-based photographer
Ewa Zebrowski reflects upon the suspension and deterioration of memory.
Evocative and mysterious, Zebrowski's quiet yet poignant images plumb
the depths of a desire for the past. The collection, shot in Italy and France,
belies its medium - the photos shimmer, as if submerged just below the surface.
Stefan Zebrowski-Rubin
of time, lost will be at At Mur in Montreal until February 26, 2011.
Ewa Zebrowski reflects upon the suspension and deterioration of memory.
Evocative and mysterious, Zebrowski's quiet yet poignant images plumb
the depths of a desire for the past. The collection, shot in Italy and France,
belies its medium - the photos shimmer, as if submerged just below the surface.
Stefan Zebrowski-Rubin
of time, lost will be at At Mur in Montreal until February 26, 2011.
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