More haunting images as you travel the shadow through the dark night of the soul. Ruin, loss, decay, desolation, feeble light and creeping darkness...time is not gentle with us. The images are chilling, unnerving, hopeless...The rotting stairs, no longer leading anywhere except into blackness, become more sinister until in the final photo they have become the teeth of a ruthless saw, the shark of time tearing the world apart.
Even in my darkest series Book of Shadows where the first sight seems is not place for silver dove, the silver dove is there in the rotting staircase that resisted in time keeping memories of every step, every footprint, that passed there for centuries. It is true that they're old, and not look very well, but sometimes these old, abandoned places can tell the most beautiful stories. But first we need to try to see the unseen and then we can hear the unheard to. And these are the things that show us the real Beauty.
I can see the shimmering of white satin gowns sweeping over the mottled walls and hear the echoes of polished black boots treading in the shadows that climb the stairs. Is that what you mean?
Twelve (midnight) is a mystic hour, when the clock strike twelve also open the gates between dreams and reality; between body and soul; between land of shadows and our world. I try to show to people different worlds in which they don't believe, or they just too scared to explore. Also twelve is a meaningful magic number.
Have you thought of the of the relationship between stairs and the telling of time? There is a Mayan pyramid with exactly 365 steps, one for every day of the year. Steps have three dimensions. But when connected in a flight they enter the fourth dimension: time. And if all time is eternally present than everyone who has ever ascended or descended from the beginning to the end is still present in spirit even if we can only see them in our dreams.
More haunting images as you travel the shadow through the dark night of the soul. Ruin, loss, decay, desolation, feeble light and creeping darkness...time is not gentle with us. The images are chilling, unnerving, hopeless...The rotting stairs, no longer leading anywhere except into blackness, become more sinister until in the final photo they have become the teeth of a ruthless saw, the shark of time tearing the world apart.
ReplyDeleteNo sign of the silver dove...
ReplyDeleteEven in my darkest series Book of Shadows where the first sight seems is not place for silver dove, the silver dove is there
Deletein the rotting staircase that resisted in time keeping memories of every step, every footprint, that passed there for centuries. It is true that they're old, and not look very well, but sometimes these old, abandoned places can tell the most beautiful stories.
But first we need to try to see the unseen and then we can hear the unheard to.
And these are the things that show us the real Beauty.
I can see the shimmering of white satin gowns sweeping over the mottled walls and hear the echoes of polished black boots treading in the shadows that climb the stairs. Is that what you mean?
ReplyDeleteSomething like that.
DeleteWhy did you choose the title "When the clock strike twelve"?
ReplyDelete
DeleteTwelve (midnight) is a mystic hour, when the clock strike twelve also open the gates between dreams and reality; between body and soul; between land of shadows and our world.
I try to show to people different worlds in which they don't believe, or they just too scared to explore.
Also twelve is a meaningful magic number.
Have you thought of the of the relationship between stairs and the telling of time? There is a Mayan pyramid with exactly 365 steps, one for every day of the year. Steps have three dimensions. But when connected in a flight they enter the fourth dimension: time. And if all time is eternally present than everyone who has ever ascended or descended from the beginning to the end is still present in spirit even if we can only see them in our dreams.
ReplyDelete