the world's edge is its heart: a week of silent images: 3

4:08 PM Posted by James Owens


8 comments:

Roxana said...

(do i still need to say how thrilled i am with you silent week-project? :-)

why is this red tearing through me? between the bone and the feather, the wounded flesh and the breath of grace, where is my home?

James said...

I've thought about doing something like this. I like seeing photos that are left for me to figure out regardless of if there is deep meaning or not. Good pictures like these don't need words anyway.

Martin H. said...

For me, these are the constituent parts necessary for flight, yet they remind me of the inevitability of landing.

James Owens said...

Roxana: This red, yes.... You know, I thought the red was too much, and I tried other colors, blue, green --- but this fire, ths blood would not release me ... it insisted :-)

"between the wounded flesh and the breath of grace, where is my home" -- oh, you know me! and you speak me better than I speak myself....

James Owens said...

James: I agree ... for a picture, poem, music, whatever -- if you can say what it means, then just say it, why take the picture, write the poem?....

James Owens said...

Martin: Flight taken apart, deconstructed :-) ... As a child, one dreams of flying, all the amazed faces looking up as you float past the high treetops ... but later, the dream is abstracted, transferred ... here ... where we don't have to admit it, when we fall....

chrome3d said...

No idea what it was but I was intrigued and entertained.

James Owens said...

Chrome: I'm glad there was something here for you -- whatever it was!