opposites attracted

the principle of complementary colours played an important role in my art "education", way-back-when in high school, and more recently in painting classes. the effect that one hue can have on another never ceases to amaze me, and the drama unfolds just as intensely in a photograph as it does in adjacent sweeps of pigment.
the combination of red and green is especially charismatic. i react almost physically to images like this one by maziar and this one by rannie, and am arrested mid-footfall by decors like the postered wall above, or the rickety ships a few days back.



blue and orange, juxtaposed, stir me the same way. they are impressive on their own; as a team, they are exhilarating.
but yellow and purple? i went way back into my photo files: all i could find were pictures of pansies.
perhaps someone else has the sublime example?

through a window

she arranges all her musts and mays and wills - tiny translucent squares of perception - into wholeness.
she knows what she wants to do, sees what she wants to show, hears what she wants to say. these jewels are clear and bright and tangible as she pieces them together, but, standing back to admire their effect, she watches the light dissolve them into skittering wisps of uncertain colour.
she is dismayed, for this was not her intention.
and she is delighted, for it is worthwhile, and it glows.

to the nines

"people are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it's safer to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs."
-unknown

the very thought of fur and leather stifles me on a day like today: i spent the whole afternoon, however, trying to find a sweet summery elegant little something to wear to my cousin's wedding in madrid in two weeks time.
why is it that when i don't need new clothes i see something irresistible in every
boutique on the block, but when i DO need them, nothing fits, nothing matches, and the few things that do catch my fancy necessitate new shoes and accessories?
as much as i like shopping, my sensibility prevails. and as much as i want to look good (i'll be seeing my family for the first time in years) i don't want to invest in an
'ensemble' that i will never wear again.
i have another fourteen days, though. i won't give up yet.
and all eyes will be on the beautiful bride anyway.

down the crazy river

the knsm-and-java-island is best-known for its innovative architecture, but,
strolling there on sunday...



we found ourselves on a quay lined with ships whose sheer vibrancy seemed to keep them afloat.



they were in very poor repair, but the column of barely buoyant corroded colour
filled me with delight.



i decided to post a few of the brightest ones together.
they might disappear into my files otherwise, never to resurface.
there is only so much one can write about rust...
without referring to one's age, anyhow.

home sweet home

we don't have landscapes* "as far as the eye can see" here in the netherlands; with
few exceptions, the spires of the church in the next village are always visible on the horizon. but the landscapes we DO have are comfortably characteristic, if lacking in drama: patchwork fields, cummerbunds of brilliant colour in spring, canals, and - here and there - a placid windmill. it may not be a spacious land, but it is a beautiful one.

(*photo friday's theme this week, and, no, i didn't scan a picture-postcard, i promise!)

lately, moving in shadows

this stubborn sadness is a tiny tack piercing the sole of her shoe, a pebble wedged
in the treads of her tire: no matter how slow, how fast, how straight, how slalomed
her progress is, it scrapes and clicks, distracting, denying her the solace of moving heedlessly on.

and rock 'n roll

working at the tourist office, and loving this city as i do, i would be delighted if
millions of people a year visited amsterdam simply to experience its exquisite beauty,
to admire its unique museums, its impressive architecture, its lively parks, its
spacious squares, its elegant waterways...



as it is, many of them arrive seeking a different kind of fulfillment altogether.
oh well.
to each his own.

hanging by a thread

this is how she feels, give or take a grimace and a tear.
she needs to take a step backward, or at least aside, to look beyond the countless insignificant holes in her happiness, and focus on the texture in-between, because that is what keeps the emptiness from taking over.

the power of two

they settle, crooked and companionable, into the slope of the dike, unfolding, adjusting, balancing, and watching the endless water.
they have more yesterdays than they have tomorrows.
they have more certainties than they have doubts.
it has been a long, fine journey together, to this small remaining stretch of sea, and
they are determined to enjoy the view.

embarkation

dreams are meant to be pursued and realized, and renee is following hers. she is on her way to prague; the long-anticipated adventure has begun.
it was of dreams and adventure and anticipation that we spoke - a few months back, though it seems like yesterday - sitting in café papeneiland until everyone but the accordionist had disappeared into the cold february night.
she's in my thoughts. i wish her - and hers - the best of luck, and as much happiness
as they can possibly embrace.