There are no words left for today.
It had its words, and used them all.
Only husks and shells remain,
their meaning sucked clean away.
Try again another day…
There are no words left for today.
It had its words, and used them all.
Only husks and shells remain,
their meaning sucked clean away.
Try again another day…
The number at the top of this post is 300, but in fact this now marks 665 days of continuous posting. And I think this reminder is a good one for me – go slow. I think I’ve been on autopilot for a while now, just get an image up and move on to the next one. I haven’t been as “present” as I used to be, actually taking time and thinking about words as well as images. I hope to change that. I hope to take it slow…
How could you not want to go down there?
Audrey skips on, through rain, shine, fog. She marks the beat of time, like the tick tock of a clock, and each skips becomes a second, then an hour, then a day, then a week, then more. She watches the world around her crumble, collapse, and be built again, new lines of concrete, steel, and noise. And still she skips, and so time skips with her…
(Sharon’s interpretation of Little Audrey is on her blog here.)