to read poetry to understand photography

*

no existe otoño sin islas 

And I go back to black 

Prunus persica

Like a durazno,

-no taste, no scent, no color- 

who's lost its zeta. 

                                                          


 Those Tuesdays where the only thing to do is to Keats.



Was it a vision, or a waking dream? My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
Fled is that music: -Do I wake or sleep?  One minute past

'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been

         Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country green,

         Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!

         But being too happy in thine happiness,—  Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

                With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

                        And purple-stained mouth; Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

         What thou among the leaves hast never known,

 The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,

         Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,

But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet

  Was it a vision, or a waking dream?

                Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

Hay que llegar humildes a... cualquier situación de la vida. 

My candle burns at both ends

Lectura de mano

Pasar por diversas etapas durante un proyecto fotográfico es normal; que en esta etapa uno sienta un hoyo en el estómago, is priceless. 

La vida sí viene con instrucciones. 

una sensación como de

Insomnio, insOmnio, insomniO, iNsoMniO, in-som-nio, InsomniO, insomniO, InsomniO, InSomniO, InsomniO, insomnio, InsomniO, Oinmosni, InsomniO, InsomniO, insOmnio, InsomniO, vInsomniO, insomnio,  iNsomniO, InsomniO, i.n.s.o.m.n.i.o, InsomniO, inSomnio, InsomniO, InsomniO, InsomniO, i  n  s  o  M  n  i  o,  InsomniO, insoMnio, InsomniO, InsomniO, InsomniO, InsomniO, InsomniO, i n s o m n i o, InsomniO, vvInsomniO, InsomniO, ynsommmnio, InsomniO, vvInsomniO, InsomniO, vInsomniO, InsomniO, InsomniO, iNsomniooo, InsomniO, inSOMnio, insomnio, insomnio.

like revealing and hiding at the same time...

...so I'm repeating my self but I think there is sufficiently difference in order to allow my self  to revisit the same things. But that's something I anyway I do all the time. I do over and over again the same image.  Like many people, like many painters, I think of  my favorite painters... so there are some things just that they feel like they are  like inépuisables, you can just do it over and over again and never get really enough of it. 

Elina Brotherus