light braids
akin to a summer in decline
ramblings & studio
in two different skies, acts of suspension embellish the heavens. recalling both youth and death. unexpected viewers make temporary communities, acting as witnesses to memorial flights. when i washed my hands, i hummed an embodied melody, as a way to avoid speaking. a ritual respect. it was unintentional, but unexpectedly choreographed. a lingering limb following the ghost of a stage. as objects rise through the air, the gaze follows, an awe to follow their paths, their rising, their disappearance, even their eventual return.
in a picturesque window of trees, light pierces through the branches. the sun itself bends around one of the branches. the celestial body flexing its otherworldly prowess of photon physics. feel free to imagine a jab about waves, particles and relativity. a few weeks ago i saw an image of einstein planting a tree. the curiosity arrived from a song about a river in colombia, el rio magdalena. just prior to this capture, i was packing up, looking at the ground. suddenly, as my sight looked up, i found myself enthralled by this painterly light. in this process of revelation, the photons painting themselves on the negative resulting in their own reversal, another bend, another turn.
we recall our conversation, the calming and unsatisfactory resolutions of the unmade. the folds and pulls of leftover fabrics. like charcoal drawings ripped from their bound, the line work dancing across the page, cutting and slicing its own substrate. a bed made up of the objects it holds.
and as the practice continues, the yields turn sweeter, more like honey. that’s how the light gets in. in these moments of rest, of refocusing the limited energy of our bodies. it becomes opening to another world, one akin to the sun bending around the tree branch. the braids of light, shimmering at the table that is also a temple. greeted with salt, fire and fruit of the vine. a return to a space that no longer exists.
and then of course it begins with the moon. a new day arises as the sun sets, whilst the moon glows brightly and warmly. captured here was a short-lived, but beautiful glory. a moonset is even more precious than its solar counterpart. the anticipation of the moon crossing the horizon seems like an afterthought. most everyone that had observed the sunset, abandoned this post, leaving the setting moon, alone.