Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Evolution of a Blue Line



"Half the hour is a moment filled with snow that is not there and whose absence leaves the smell of oranges where oranges have never been, and the other half is an afternoon of bones piled like firelogs every twenty feet in a pasture of tall grass, welded grains and mumblings imagine.

Were it not for a fence of milk and wire, this would be the neighborhood of the world.  In a distance the word is mistaken for a mountain but is only a bottle on a fence post gathering the image of the pasture.  The chicken scratch on the edifice shimmers, a bar of colored light behind the white shade, it has a family of wishes to lift."


Photography by Sarah Moon and text by George Angel from Evolution of a Blue Line - the fifth Season.

4 comments:

Migue said...

whose absence leaves the smell of oranges where oranges have never been

Very beautiful Diane.
It's always a pleasure to take a look in this Theatre. Yes it is.

diane said...

Thank you Migue. You should read The Fifth Season if you get a chance, it's magic!

Vesna said...

I really liked that same sentence as Migue, I like it all really. Thank you for this beauty Diane
xxx

diane said...

thank you for looking dearest!