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About Me
the feeling of beauty is the feeling of 'muga': no-self or ecstasy
Nishida
Nishida
collaboration with Michael Tweed
the beautiful foolishness of things
on-going project uniting my photographs and text by Michael Tweed
on-going project uniting my photographs and text by Michael Tweed
Blog Archive
Labels
- about photography (14)
- Alejandra (3)
- ars poetica (7)
- autumn (38)
- balloons (4)
- Belogradchik fortress (2)
- Berlin (5)
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- blue (21)
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- death (57)
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- end (1)
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- expressionist poetics (3)
- fields (20)
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- grace (40)
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- happy (2)
- homage to botanique (1)
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- my secret women (122)
- my untold stories (15)
- night (32)
- palimpsest (5)
- paris (5)
- past unreal conditional (15)
- pictorialist poetics (2)
- poetics of tea (18)
- poetics of wonder (9)
- poetique des elements (44)
- poppies (1)
- pottery (5)
- quiet (7)
- rain (5)
- realities that I fail (9)
- red (8)
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- romantic manifesto (1)
- roses (29)
- sad (4)
- sea (3)
- shelter (7)
- spring (51)
- summer (45)
- sweet irony (2)
- the blooming forest (7)
- the demonic (9)
- the floating bridge of dreams (8)
- the Foolishness-project (2)
- the impossible (1)
- the kiss (5)
- the prayer of the objects series (1)
- the sister (5)
- this pleasure so dark (7)
- time (25)
- Tree of Life (31)
- tulips (4)
- vases (1)
- veil (5)
- Veliko-Tarnovo (2)
- video (11)
- when the child was a child (32)
- wings of desire (6)
- winter (32)
- winter trilogy (2)
- writing (3)
all texts and photographs belong to me unless otherwise noted.
ooh my goodness
ReplyDeleteI love your work
:-)
ReplyDeletethank you Dianne, and a big hug!
Continuas com uns trabalhos de forte densidade...eu gosto muito deles.
ReplyDeleteTenho andado distante...mas vou olhando o teu trabalho dos sentidos, um trabalho da alma.
Beijos
Only the floating bridge creates such mysteries...
ReplyDeleteThe blue mountain scene is pure magic...
World burning ? Can the rain put it out and wash away the smoke ?
Or something else entirely... I'm perplexed...
Which is good... if everything were simple...
The blue monster licks the land with his fiery tongue and gloats as the world smokes and steams and dissolves in an ectasy of death and rebirth.
ReplyDeleteYeah, okay, a little over the top as a comment, but it's so hard to know what to say about your extraordinary pictures. Intriguing to explore here, across the floating bridge. It's a bit scary to cross over...though sometimes it's difficult to tell the difference between fear and excitement. I am learning to call the sensation excitement.
Manchmal malen Deine Bilder meine Gedanken, liebe Roxana, aber was mich so besonders an ihnen fasziniert, ist das sie so eigen sind, dass sie aus dem Rahmen des Gewöhnlichen austreten und ihren eigenen Weg gehen, wenn man das so sagen kann. Und dann fühle ich und erinnere mich, dass man nicht dazu verdammt ist, ein gewöhnliches Leben zu führen, sondern das Weltliche überwinden kann und auf das hoffen und vertrauen kann, was für andere unmöglich ist... wunderschön!
ReplyDeleteLass Dich ganz lieb umarmen, Roxana!
Renée
Je n'ai pas de mots encore une fois pour exprimer ce que je ressens, c'est juste magnifique.
ReplyDeleteRoxana's Prometheus or "symphony of light" begins with a steely rose-gray effulgence projected on the ceiling (from the Luxe or
ReplyDelete"clavier à lumières" as it is sometimes called), and represents her endlessly undulating passion. The second and third theosophic movements evoke pastoral breezes with dabs of lacerating greens. In time, a frosty moonlight suffuses the entire theater, and the ghostly trees, resiliently aslant, are projected on center stage amid the dulcet adagio pacing of the dream movement (the forth). The earthy madness of green returns and, swirling in supple surrender, the thrushes applaud.
The climactic moment arrives as the sugary-sheened mountains, fluorescent in the mind of wretched souls, state their Will of the Creative Spirit mantra, a tang as satisfying as any patter on the tongue. The evolutional passage to orange, scalding wisps of orange, goes hardly without notice (though it tumbles rhythmically).
The symphony ends with inchoate blobs of unyielding crimson (but a foil for the intensity of the Human Will), an agonizing epitaph for her refulgent poem of fire.
Prospero's description of your work here is ideal. As I read along I kept thinking: Yes! -while envisioning each corresponding image as if viewing on a projector inside my brain.
ReplyDeleteReally, such artistry is more than I expected to see in my lifetime.
The first shot with its slant of light unlike any other I've seen in a photo...the happiest wildflowers...and is that a barbed-wire fence or rows of earth plowed for planting? ....Those were my favorites.
@ Lynne, I agree that there is often a mix of both fear and excitement here, and if one goes way back through her past posts, one could come to the conclusion that this is one of the most vibrant places on the entire internet... combining fear, trepidation, adventure, excitement, I often feel like I'm way up high on a dizzying cliff, looking into some strange, mysterious, valley of wonder, visually sensuous, foreign yet familiar, and bursting at the seams with raw emotions... such is the Floating Bridge to this traveller...
ReplyDeleteWow! Gorgeous work as always. Something about the fourth image is so very striking to me. Maybe because it's the subtlest of the lot. Maybe it's the strong contrasts or the aged quality that fire evokes. I like that I don't know. Very fine work, Roxana.
ReplyDeleteeste atat e fara cuvinte,draga mea,felul in care prepari lumea,in care isti o forma,ca apoi sa o ascunzi in ceata cea densa,pentru a scoate,apoi,alta,ca o posibilitate pe care nu cutezi a o imbratisa definitiv,ca sa nu apara,apoi,o alta,si mai...cum este totul la indemana ta,pentru a pleca,apoi,mai departe.sub ceata este un foc si,la mijloc,coincidentia oppositorum.
ReplyDeletecoucou Roxana..
ReplyDeleteun moment délicieux drapé de volutes voilées...j'aime ces terres fumantes comme ces matins d'hiver quand le soleil réchauffe les sillons..
tu nous emmènes doucement dans ce tourbillon estival quand la chaleur devient délicieusement insupportable..quand les forets craquent sous le pas ..en Provence les étés sont souvent torrides ..tes images évoquent aussi ces grands feux de foret que l'on redoute ici..
les roses brulantes de l'été ne demandent plus qu'a être ramassées...
..je te souhaite plein de bonnes choses chère Roxana ..je ne serai pas très présente dans les temps qui arrivent ..mais tu es dans mon cœur..:o)
je t'embrasse fort..
Each one a world within a world.
ReplyDeletebonjour Roxana, j'aime ta merveilleuse progression d'images ici et j'aime aussi les commentaires qui ajoutent une autre dimension à ton travail.Tu as de la chance d'avoir ces commentaires mais mais ton art le mérite après tout.
ReplyDeleteI love the way the words -and if roses are not enough" I love the way they haunt and reverberate through each image.For me it means that our earthly exalted desire is not good enough to sustain our existence and the final image ends in an apocalypse.
bien c'est juste mon petit rêve pour aujourd'hui-l'interprétation c'est ouverte n'est ce pas?
belle journée magique Roxana et merci pour la magnifique présentation.
ou ce que je voulais dire-
ReplyDeleteit ends in an apocalypse of colour.
magnifique- merci.
Tu as le feu sacré en toi...
ReplyDeleteCes photos m'évoquent, quoi ?
Ces fleurs et cette verdure en pente douce sont vraiment d'une signature exquise et sublime !
Je me pose la question à savoir, sur ta page, qu'il y a-t-il de plus important ? Le texte, les photos ?
Tes photos ouvrent vers de sacrés voyages qui, même avec mon imagination débordante, sont difficiles pour moi, techniquement, à illustrer dans mon propre univers Life is... ! ! !
J'aime vraiment ces fleurs et cette verdure...
A quoi rêves-tu quand tu fais "clic" pour prendre une telle photo ?...
Ciao bella...:)
Je t'aime toujours...(8]
thank you Adelino, i am so glad to see you here again!
ReplyDeleteah, dear Owen, you came back to leave another comment, how sweet of you (also, i am most touched by your gesture of going back on the Bridge and look through the old posts).
"Can the rain put it out and wash away the smoke ?: - is this an invitation, perhaps, that i should post some rain as well? who knows, maybe i will just take it as that and do it - then we'll see if such fire can be extinguished or not :-)
Lynne, i loved your comment and it made me very curious, at the same time: why fear?
Can the rain put it out and wash away the smoke ?
liebste Renée, ich habe gerade ein Zitat aus Proust gelesen, das mich an Deine Worte hier erinnert hat - und dachte, ich sollte es einmal hier auf der Bruecke zeigen, so schoen ist es (und wahr): ja, das ist genau das, was Kunst fuer uns macht, und wenn Du sagst, meine Bilder wirken fuer Dich genau so, dann bin ich sehr gluecklich und Dir schweigend dankbar.
ReplyDeleteein wunderschoenes Wochenende wuensche ich Dir...
K'line, ta presence ici est suffisante pour me remplir de joie, je t'embrasse, silencieuse comme tu es :-)
Prospero,
ReplyDeletei read your long poem (it's indeed a poem) many times, and each time when i went back to my images trying to look at them with your images in mind, they seemed a thousand times richer, like a diamond come alive, with endless facets, perpetually changing.
my words are very poor and i can't do justice to your description (i wonder if my pictures really can), so i will simply thank you, from my heart.
Lydia, i am so touched by your words, i don't know what to say... thank you so much, they mean so much to me.
ReplyDelete(you mean the third picture? rows of earth, yes, no fence)
Steven, welcome! thank you very much for your words of appreciation. indeed, the 4th image is my favourite one as well, my reasons being that it has the subdued quality of a sumi-e or Chinese ink painting (that i love very much and i have often struggled to achieve a similar atmosphere in my pictures). but it was rather unexpected to get that here in this series, which has more expressionistic tones.
Cerasela, draga mea - sub ceata este un foc, da, si acolo este umbra ta etern-miscatoare, dezvelind cuvantul care face ca totul sa fie, sa fie plenar, cu sens.
ma tres chere Clo, je me suis attendue a ce rapprochement, les grands feux de foret, pourtant ici il ne s'agit pas de ca. je n'ai jamais entendu parler de tels feux en Roumanie, les inondations sont un probleme (comme maintenant) mais pas les incendies. ici, il y avait un paysan qui mettait feu a son foin, c'est une tradition tres ancienne a la campagne et qui n'est pas dangereuse. mais je ne sais pas trop pourquoi ils le font.
ReplyDeletemoi aussi je t'embrasse... je vais t'attendre avec (im)patience :-)
merc, it takes your eye to see through them, until the last one.
ReplyDeleteamaraentus, thank you so much for coming to the Bridge and for leaving such warm and thoughtful comments for many posts today, i am grateful and touched by your patience and attention.
ReplyDeleteand i have to say that i love your interpretation (bien sur, ouverte, infinie :-) - even if i had a precise reference in my head when i chose this title, it was in fact related to the poem that i had posted previously.
i have already gone and taken a stroll through your world, i will come again soon and tell you my impressions - and i hope to see you here again :-)
Jeff,
merci beaucoup pour tes mots d'aujourd'hui, peut-etre la reponse, la seule que j'aie, est: je ne pense a rien quand je fais clic, je suis tout simplement la :-) et d'ailleurs je ne fais rien d'autre qu'appuyer, plus tard quand je travaille sur les images il y a bien sur des choix conscients que je fais, mais souvent je n'ai pas quelque chose de precis dans la tete, je choisis quelque chose juste spontanement, parce que cela correspond a l'humeur que j'ai ce moment-la :-)
Erst schien es, als ob alles eine blau-grüne Fläche sei, ich wußte nicht, daß es so viele Schichten waren.
ReplyDeleteErst als die Abendsonne aus den Wolken kam, da konnte ich die anderen Gipfel sehen.
P´ei Tu
life goes well
ReplyDeleteas it should be.
hi roxana,
you look quite good! :p
un psychologue dirait il y a du feux en toi-même; le rouge de la souffrance que tu mes en scène avec ce texte si dense.
ReplyDeleteso beautiful is your european summer though your lenses roxana... that picture with the blue smoke and the blue mountains...its one of your best!
ReplyDeletean impressive series ..... summer has arrived!
ReplyDelete