Thursday, 9 October 2008

And the night flowed back into the rose.


































And she flowed back into the soft curve of her death. 
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16 comments:

  1. Marion McCready10 October 2008 at 00:48

    Lovely, I very much like the mix of light, shade and the almost sepia tone of the background.

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  2. Roxana10 October 2008 at 11:06

    thank you sorlil, I'll post more of the dying rose garden soon, I don't know what roses have that I can't get away from them... but they are so difficult to photograph.

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  3. billoo10 October 2008 at 14:40

    wonderful..no, I mean, really wonderful.
    As the others here say: why on earth aren't you exhibited (i mean your photos, not you).


    But roxana, why so mo-rose [sorry, couldn't resist! ;-) ]

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  4. Szerelem10 October 2008 at 16:56

    You're back :) I have been missing your pictures!!

    These are so lovely - I always love your roses. They are beautiful and melancholy - perhaps because they are so beautiful...

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  5. Roxana10 October 2008 at 17:03

    hey b, do you have something against my morose prose? :-P (I am considering now a rose-crows word play, hmmm)

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  6. Roxana10 October 2008 at 17:04

    thank you, szerelem, yes, I remember you liked my pink evening roses too!

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  7. Folded letters10 October 2008 at 17:15

    These are lovely. They remind me of Dutch still lifes. Vanitas & the brevity of life. The red of the rose. It stands out brilliant from the background. Life taking on death. Beautiful.

    Why aren't your photos exhibited?? You need to share them so others can enjoy.

    -fl

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  8. Roxana10 October 2008 at 17:42

    foldedletters, welcome here! I like your name, I should make a post about folded roses too :-)
    yes, vanitas and brevitas. also theatrum mundi, my soul (or one of them) is truly a baroque one.

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  9. billoo11 October 2008 at 06:19

    Let's not talk about "for" or "against".

    doesn't the rose need to smile as well to blossom?

    'My meeting with you is like that of rose and dew-
    all the weeping from me, all the smiling from you'
    ---Mir Dard.

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  10. Anonymous11 October 2008 at 06:21

    dear r, do you know, i find it also difficult to photograph roses. but yours are very heavy in this almost "ueberreife" you captured that so well...

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  11. Roxana11 October 2008 at 12:20

    oh b, maybe there will come a time when the rose smiles to blossom. and maybe there will be eyes in me to see this and take this photograph. but for now I can only see them in this heaviness antonia is talking about, an endured time that is already full of death.

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  12. Roxana11 October 2008 at 12:22

    yes, a, dearest. ueberreife. such a word, isn't it? I was trying to translate it for b, but couldn't find anything to fit.

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  13. Anonymous11 October 2008 at 14:15

    typing in ueberreife isn't very helpful on google going by the first item.

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  14. Roxana11 October 2008 at 14:29

    yes, anonymous, that is true:-) I've thought this myself, of course I had tried to google it! it must be something like overripeness, I don't know if it exists in english. but ueberreife is so beautiful and poetical, one can almost feel the heaviness, sweetness, the time, the longing to die.

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  15. mansuetude11 October 2008 at 19:48

    something in that artifact on the wall makes a vertical wooden board that evokes inwardly a sense of a cross, when with the rose... for me. in this second, at least.

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  16. Roxana11 October 2008 at 22:29

    oh - now I see it too, mansuetude.

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