What’s left is lost in memory interpret by a passing moth.
As values change from hand to hand time changes the mark into a marker.
For my clothing will fit the earth one day, and happily converse with the grass that embraces my laces.
My will be not my no more but yours as it always was.
As me myself and I became a we us ourselves.
The feeling of making a photo
I feel the earth. To feel the photo. It's not always clear why I want to make a photo. It's not always because of the image an sich. Sometimes it's the action itself that's almost more important....
0 Comments