The boulder’s time is not my own,
and yet we meet, just in time.
In a brief instant, the rhythms
brush, embrace, and intertwine.
Then they release, and each one
follows its own course.
The stone has traveled farther than I ever could.
It seems to have come from Norway,
passing among rocks and rolling down hills,
sliding, pushed, worn.
And here it is,
in transit.
That it now remains still
is only my modest perspective.
Animistic still life photography with natural materials — fine art images of stone, wool, and wood that reveal the quiet spirit of matter.
The still lifes, or small installations as I call them are not always left in peace. Sometimes one of our cats comes along to check if everything is in place.
There was the memory, the reflection, and the absorption. All in one. The rocks looked at me, and I saw my own breath feeding the life that lived in their small niches.A disruption in time, a...