focal distance
The delightful thing about sharing a camera
is finding the mysterious images that
appear between my own sessions;
I discover all manner
of strange things
with secret
meanings.
The bricks, in particular, made me think.
What were you trying to capture?
What story is hidden here?
Are you plotting plots?
Did you simply
find them
nice?
The longer I thought about the bricks,
the lovelier they seemed to become.
The shapes are pleasantly solid.
They have nice symmetry.
They hold together
this little
home.
Now, quite fond of them, I learn
that the image was a mistake.
You were trying to obtain
focus for a different
shot entirely when
your finger
slipped.
Well, I still like the bricks. Friends,
now, these clay blocks and I
will whisper about the wonder
in a mistaken instant,
a fleeting glimpse
of unintended
now.
Category: imago/poema 2 comments »
June 18th, 2009 at 4:29 am
Clay
from the
earth is leached,
mixed with other clays
and grog (fired and ground
clay) using a simple formula for
brick, then pushed into a rectangular form.
As
it dries,
the clay brick
shrinks from its mold,
thus getting its rectangular shape.
Once bone dry the green ware
is kiln-fired, then cooled and pallet stacked.
Purchased,
slapped with
mortar that bonds
it to other bricks,
stacked, plumbed, leveled and scraped,
it forms a structure–your home,
and an historic record for your accidental shutter.
July 4th, 2009 at 8:52 pm
bricks
new meaning