an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

. . .

I am still slow with light and color. That ladder was astonishingly beautiful beside the basement window. It took a long time to see it through the lens as it was, to let the film see the window light in the dark. I didn't know how to take it. I held my breath at last, held my hands steady, and leaned into the wall while the shutter opened its eye, made a long pause, and closed again. And yes, that ladder was something like this ladder. I'd have taken you down to the basement to show you, but here we are instead at the desk together, as usual. Well, this is not so bad. It's like sharing a story over breakfast.


Unplugging now: off to New Hampshire. If you're nearby and can make the reading, I'd love to meet you.


"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

[contact me:]

what o'clock it is


live flowers