Thursday, August 25, 2005

tea with grandfather




he sits, silhouetted by light and lace, corduroy rustling on corduroy, composed, hands clasping cup, pensive.
gazing solemnly over his straight and weighted shoulders is himself, as a boy. between them, dust dances, filling the metres, the minutes, the decades, with movement and memories, and the space between black-and-white and grey with a lifetime of colour.

10 comments:

  1. this is so special lynn! i really love this one.

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  2. my granddad always had corduroy trousers too, and..had a photo of himself asa boy..one christmas, just after id had one of my first pay cheques, i bought him some beautiful corduroy fabric from libertys, the colour wasa sought bruin-green. it was beautiful. i then spent a weekend after christmas in their cottage making him trousers with my grandmother, who even then cut her own pattern,a craft i had just mastered being fresh out of art school. beautiful memories, thanks special friend.xxxxs.

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  3. I like your soft, carefully crafted words, and the rhythm that brings them alive. He looks at you through the glass of the frame, and the glass of the camera, did you notice?

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  4. For two years now, your photos and words have never failed to knock me out...

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  5. You did it again Lynn: a great photo (the reds of the flower and its reflection!) and a sad thought: the passing of time...

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  6. nice storytelling Lynn ...:-)

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