Photograph

“The photograph does not call upon the past…The effect it produces upon me is not to restore what has been abolished (by time, by distance) but to attest that what I see has indeed existed.”
-Rolland Barthes

Numbers...

Numbers have suddenly been disappearing: falling off my life like stars.

Dates have fallen off my calendar leaving behind blank white squares. And I dont know how to fill up their flaking, gaping emptiness.

Phone numbers have vanished with homes changing home-makers...whose number is it now?

Where have they gone?

 

And when she slept, she shut her eyes so tight, the lids looked haphazardly run-stitch together...looked like pillows hurriedly sewn together to not let even a feather slip out...

One of these winter afternoons, I would like to look out of the window in my room and have the tree look back at me, de-frosted clean of the icicles of memory...

 

Love in the time of Lautrec

Blues in other hues