I am lost
the gold dripping off your fingers
the useless gold
making my hair heavy
too heavy for this life
the gold dripping off your feet
the weary gold
making my breasts heavy
too heavy for this death
all that gold
I used to be the gentian
growing out of your footstep
light and soft
I used to be
I turned into gold
that tired gold
all that gold
heavy gold
that you don't need
I am lost
nice pics! really like the colours. and the idea of a tired gold
ReplyDeleteBeautiful photographs. Facing these colors in this season, how can I remember my name?
ReplyDeleteAnd the poem, too, the weight that "gold" learns to carry though repetition -- that's what the years are about, aren't they? They flowers, too.
... God help us... its too beautiful! pollen splurger.
ReplyDeletefantastic photos. Don't know about the 'heavy breasts' and 'too heavy for death though'! :)
ReplyDeletewhat happeend to your Buddha-soul?
'for all above become your Suns,
full and glowing, turning round you.
But in you is already begun
what will outlast the Suns'
swiss, you know, I always try to anticipate which photos will make you react, but my predictability statistics doesn't look very reassuring :-)
ReplyDeleteoh james.
ReplyDeleteyes, I also thought about pollen here, mansuetude, pollen is such a magical, wondrous image, I think... it fascinates me.
ReplyDeleteanonymous, too difficult a question for this slow saturday morning :-) I'll just be silent and enjoy your joy of my pictures...
ReplyDeletethese photos are so not slow, so not sad
ReplyDeletedear lotus, hi :-)
ReplyDeleteyes, I hope they are not, even if...
the golden light of summers past , has now turned into heavy, tired gold ? the tactile beauty of your photos and the weight of those words: together they capture ambiguous autumn, in all its decaying richness ... the " even if " feeling ...
ReplyDelete(i would like to see your photos in print one day, though even on the screen they have such a warm, sensuous grain to them - don't quite know how you obtain that)
ambiguous autumn, how beautifully you put it, ffflaneur. when I was younger I thought spring was my favourite season (I am born in March), but no, I have come to understand that it cannot be other than autumn. I am quite obsessed with it, automne malade et adore, as Apollinaire called it...
ReplyDeleteI like texture, grain in pictures, I guess it is easier to get that when working with film and not digital.
these are so beautiful. i'm not sure how i missed them, i've been spending too little time w/ blogs these past few weeks. these images are gorgeous...
ReplyDeletesuch lovely photos. my goodness
ReplyDeleteCromatica excelenta...
ReplyDelete