Monday, 10 December 2012

by unfolding my flowers

they had promised there would be snow the next day. 
i woke up and ran to the window, to no avail. so i had to let my flowers rise and take over the grey, indifferent expanse. iridescence of snow, even on my skin. i knew you wouldn't notice them and yet i was longing to hear your steps, crushing them on your way to me. in the end, though, i also painted a green rectangle in the snow, perhaps i meant it just as a reminder that i should invent you like this, ruthless steps and all, every time i would be tempted to think that i could keep, by unfolding my flowers against the world, grief at a distance.


  1. i wrote this yesterday, longing for the promised snow. and yet today, when i woke up: SNOW! the first snow of the year... i should imagine that my flowers brought it, that sometimes all that it takes is to unfurl one's flowers :-)

    i wanted you to know of my surprise, of my delight today.

  2. I would so love to see a show here. It gets so quiet. It gets paradoxical to be in my warm house looking out at it and loving it. I had a precocious high school student once who said there are two mistakes you can make in life. One is to love a thing too much. The other, is to not love it enough. I've found that to be true..

  3. We had our first snow here yesterday. I cannot say I greeted it with delight, but I did love the slow poetics of its falling. It's the silent footfall of snow appoaching that often brings me sorrow; oh,not with its first heady swirling arrival, but over time as its presence grows heavy and oppressively inhibiting.
    But don't let me spoil your joy in these early days of winter romance!

  4. Your wish came true and this delicate flower with a dark background brought pure whiteness to your doorstep.

    Hope you are enjoying the snow (your flowers are beautiful)...

  5. ah, i share this joy!! every year, the first snow ... timeless and eternal (and yet it is the time of childhood, swirling adrift from the present) ...

    these photos break me

    such a beautiful breaking :-)

  6. Naturally you know how harsh this is, for it will never snow on my forlorn island--and you rob me of the joy that an extemporaneous dusting of snow brings to the tired mind and soul. But fret not, i will rely on my distant (and imagined) memory of snowy climes and experience the joy, now vicariously, through your wide-eyed appraisals. i'm happy, you're happy--now we just have to work on seven billion others.

  7. 50 shades of grey?

  8. I too love taking in the sight of the first snow fall of the year. The air is crisp and hitting my cheeks.

    I'm so drawn to your photos. The way the lighting and the shadows touch the petals just so....

  9. We are expecting our first snowfall tomorrow, but one must drive up into the mountains. I share your joy — nothing delights me more than snow! One might say that's because I don't live with it, but I have and I miss it. As for keeping grief at a distance, I have no illusions. These almost monochrome flowers, their subtle tidings, help me escape my treacherous intellect...

  10. dan, how are the winters over there where you live?
    but how could one know the "measure" of love, what could be "too much" or "not enough"? i don't think it is possible :-)

    haha, Lynne, believe it or not, i was thinking about you when making this post, imagining your disapproving expression :-) i expect that we will see more of this reciprocal teasing this winter :-)

    Awena, meanwhile the snow falling has turned into a real snow storm, and as i am supposed to travel by train tomorrow, through the Danube plane, where trains often get stuck somewhere among hills of snow - i am beginning to think i should have waited a bit with my longing :-)
    (thank you for your kind words)

    James, yes :-)
    our snow, the eternal one...

  11. Prospero, i have never been afraid of hard work (ha!) :-) but billions others hmmm - maybe this will prove too hard, even for the Bridge :-)
    (your poinciana makes up fully for the absence of white, i would say :-)

    musicwithinyou, thank you for visiting and for such warm and delicate words - i wanted to capture exactly that "just so" you so aptly put into words, but it is very hard :-)

    anonymous, i don't think i would stop at 50 :-)

    Stickup, i went to your blog yesterday and wrote a comment about how i missed your posts - but then i erased it, i thought that if you needed that silence, one should respect it (though i am not sure how long i am able to stick to this decision :-).

    "help me escape my treacherous intellect" - ha, yes, every tool is good for that purpose, if my photos have done that for you, then i am more than happy :-)

  12. hello my beautiful friend thankyou for this haunting beauty of a presentation.The flowers in these two images take on a blue glow that I sometimes see across the snowy landscapes,the celebration of white mixed with the blues.
    the text is powerful also and it leads me to think also of the blossoming of the self in a cold frozen zone of the soul.

    sending you joyful snowflake kisses.

  13. mi-a placut atat de mult,cred ca tu stii,si m-au urmarit cuvintele,desi trebuie sa o spun ca nici acum nu am inteles tot.paradoxal,poate,dar tocmai de asta scriu,pana sa ajung sa inteleg tot-are acest drum acel farmec al cautarii,ca si cand as calca pe o zapada care nu lasa urme,ca si cand pe pajistea ivita neasteptat din alb m-as putea odihni,cu florile albe sub gene.pasii sunt 60 pe minut -si asta imi este,acum,de ajuns,cum imi erau,copil,cantecelele din care nu intelegeam decat vocabule izolate.

  14. Beautiful flowers. Again.

  15. wonderfully captured emotions of longing and expecting, the state of heightened sensitivity and exposed vulnerability (by unfolding your flowers) just to be able to come closer, welcome, hear the crushing steps, see, touch at last, feel with all our senses at once! . . .

    beautifully presented in images and words! thank you, dear Roxana


  16. in ihrer traurigkeit sind diese blüten doch wunderschön, still und gelassen. der text ... deine sensibilät und weite spürend, nehme ich dich bei der hand und führe dich hin zu den blumen, die sich jeder stimmung anzupassen scheinen, ohne regung gleiten sie mit dem strome der zeit und verweilen in ihrer herrlichkeit. sei lieb umarmt, prinzessin! renée