Saturday, 4 February 2006

Roland Clare 2006

"I bet the stories you could tell would make a hell of a book," I said, "If only you knew how to get them down on paper."

He shrugged. "Not everything needs to be written down."

from The Man With The Dagger
(The Moment under The Moment)



from top: Framed in the broken window of an electricity sub-station, content for a plastic storage-box for sale on the pavement outside a shop and amid the travel brochures: preferable to an expensive flight to Florida

Mortal life is a difficult proposition because hardly anything can be experienced as what it actually is; everything is time-distorted. In childhood we wait for things that seem too long in coming, we wait for treats, for presents, for festivals and holidays, we wait for growing up. There is so much waiting that suddenly childhood itself is gone with all that was being waited for. As grown-ups we find ourselves pitched headlong down a steep and slippery slide with everything hurtling towards us at a great speed; some things smash us full in the face, others streak past half-glimpsed or unseen; everything has happened before we were ready for it. Only after the hurly-burly of mortal life is over can one have a really good look at what has happened; unburdened by choice and unthreatened by consequences one is able to sort through the half-glimpses of a lifetime and find perhaps one or two workable fragments of recognition.
from Pilgermann





from top: Among the floral bouquets on sale in a shopping precinct, in a shopping precinct in the Xerox machine at a 'Convenience Store' for those with nothing of their own to copy, and jutting from an ornamental urn in the graveyard

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