Tenderness need not be feared. It is always worth the risk to give love. It may or may not be returned. If it is returned, tenderly, it is no longer a risky thing at all. It is a new direction with bright colors and beautiful moments. If it is not returned, it is a new direction only with nothing truly lost as you have given freely. Mrs. Slug wishes for you a life of tenderness and fun at all times!
Such expressive yet mysterious beauty...
these are beautiful, so many stories in that expression.
Peace and intimacy in the moment, thank you. Such purity in the framing of this image. I am always attracted by the play of light and dark in your portraits of this pair.
ah, so one can learn not only about colours here, but also about vulnerability & tenderness ....
I see these wonderful photos as: fear of loss; holding on despite the inevitable; and a realization that loss is perhaps her fate.
The gaze is all. The fear, the expectation, the tremulousness. And then the vision of parting.these pictures of your secret women are always interesting. I hope you are doing well. surprisingly, I do not miss "writing" the blog at all!To be honest, I am baffled myself.
You say so very much will only these tender eyes.
La douceur, la passion, sentiment tendre qui se manifeste par des paroles, des gestes doux sentir la peau le souffle. La tendresse accompagne souvent un regard, une parole, un geste. Elle se pose comme une lumière, se répand comme un parfum. Elle fait vivre et rend heureux.Photo laisse entrevoir cette tendresse entre femmes , moment intime ou tous est passion pour l’autre , j’aime cela Lilas Roxana , dans ce monde ou tu vis bâtiment béton fait pour rester, à la limite de l'acceptable et du respect de la dignité humaine., cet endroit devient humain dans cette tendresse.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.To be wounded by your own understanding of love;And to bleed willingly and joyfully. - Kahlil GibranI also loved the last foolishness - they all seem connected, somehow.m
Mrs. Slug!!! how have you been? you must be enjoying the closeness of summer in the fresh woods...thank you for your lovely words. and true. i had placed a little comma in there, because i didn't intend the title to be read like: 'fearing that tenderness', but something more like: 'the tenderness of this moment, in which caring and fear inevitably mix'. and there can be many reasons for this fear... but what you said is true and perhaps it is, in the end, the same thing...
Mary-Laure, merci beaucoup, chere amie :-)
Sorlil, yes, that's what i like most about her, that incredible expressivity... (which i now discover is not an english word, i get this red underline that something is wrong hmm - i wonder how i should say this in english?)
James :-) ah you noticed - i've got a new series which emphasizes this light and dark play you talk about, but it is not ready yet... i've got only little time - no time actually - for my photos recently, i miss that terribly.
ffflaneur, i would hope so :-)
b!!!!incredible, you've actually managed to write a deep and astute comment, without even mentioning gastronomy, wow! :-P(just teasing, if you don't mind? :-)first, i have to thank you for the use of that word, 'wonderful', which is rare coming from you. and second, you are totally right.(yes, she can admit that somebody else is totally right, occasionally :-)
Kubla, hi again"The fear, the expectation, the tremulousness. And then the vision of parting." - this says it all, doesn't it? thank you for not giving the 'floating bridge' up, even if you don't miss writing on your blog... i am touched and honoured. i would certainly miss sharing my images with people, and the friends i have gained here...
S., it's incredible how the gaze can be an entire world, isn't it?
Allan, tes mots sur la tendresse sont si beaux que je ne sais pas ce que je pourrais y ajouter... j'aime surtout cette idee d'une tendresse volatile, qui se repand comme un parfum entre hommes et choses, entre 'moi' et l'autre, l'autre et 'moi'... les barrieres semblent floues pour un instant, ou cessent d'exister...le monde d'ici n'est pas seulement 'batiment beton', si tu venais visiter, tu verrais a quel point la nature y est belle - et puis les gens sont tres ouverts et chaleureux, c'est vraiment le sud!
Manu, thank you for the splendid quote... perhaps you would like to see this post as well (now that you have started to embarrass me by plunging into that distant and strange past :-) but no, you - you! - may do that, i trust your gentle gaze completely :-):http://roxanaghita.blogspot.com/2008/02/einige-von-euch-sagenfreude-ist-grer.htmlfor many reasons, this post is very special to my heart.and thank you for telling me (and Michael, i let him know, of course) about the 040 foolishness, you are familiar with Japan so you know what the picture represents... how would somebody who doesn't know that look at it? it's an interesting question...
Well, I don't know whether to stick my tongue out at you or just sit back and marvel at the re-surfacing of this strange and wonderful mythical beast that goes by the name of Roxana.Where have you been, kid?Actually, in my own mind I was trying to relate those pictures to my feelings for Cinammon rolls: fear of loss, holding on...
My last comment:as the academics say: publish or perish!
ahahahahb :-)i don't know whether to be grateful that - for once! - you've managed to contain yourself and your Pantagruel-like penchants or to regret that :-) and i cannot stop wonder, if you had stuck your tongue out at me, would i have discovered there the hidden City of the 1000 Cinnamon Rolls, as this poor guys discovers a whole world hidden in Pantagruel's mouth? :-)"Then, as well as I could, I got upon it, and went along full two leagues upon his tongue, and so long marched that at last I came into his mouth. But, O gods and goddesses! what did I see there? Jupiter confound me with his trisulc lightning if I lie! I walked there as they do in Sophia (at) Constantinople, and saw there great rocks, like the mountains in Denmark--I believe that those were his teeth. I saw also fair meadows, large forests, great and strong cities not a jot less than Lyons or Poictiers. The first man I met with there was a good honest fellow planting coleworts, whereat being very much amazed, I asked him, My friend, what dost thou make here? I plant coleworts, said he. But how, and wherewith? said I. Ha, sir, said he, everyone cannot have his ballocks as heavy as a mortar, neither can we be all rich. Thus do I get my poor living, and carry them to the market to sell in the city which is here behind. Jesus! said I, is there here a new world? Sure, said he, it is never a jot new, but it is commonly reported that, without this, there is an earth, whereof the inhabitants enjoy the light of a sun and a moon, and that it is full of and replenished with very good commodities; but yet this is more ancient than that. Yea but, said I, my friend, what is the name of that city whither thou carriest thy coleworts to sell? It is called Aspharage, said he, and all the indwellers are Christians, very honest men, and will make you good cheer. To be brief, I resolved to go thither. Now, in my way, I met with a fellow that was lying in wait to catch pigeons, of whom I asked, My friend, from whence come these pigeons? Sir, said he, they come from the other world. Then I thought that, when Pantagruel yawned, the pigeons went into his mouth in whole flocks, thinking that it had been a pigeon-house."
(just a little note, no need to publish: expressiveness)
(thank you, pensum, for taking care of my English. sometimes it gets tricky because i am used to 'steal' the words from French, which works fine in 90 % of the cases)