the fascinating tale of photographers’ halting acceptance of color, revealing the diverse vibrancy informing their efforts to shape a creative language for its use, and explaining how the art world’s acceptance of color photography over recent years has transformed the medium into today’s dominant art form.
i don’t know when love became elusive what i know, is that no one i know has it my fathers arms around my mothers neck fruit too ripe to eat, a door half way open when your name is a just a hand i can never hold everything i have ever believed in, becomes magic.
i think of lovers as trees, growing to and from one another searching for the same light, my mothers laughter in a dark room, a photograph greying under my touch, this is all i know how to do, carry loss around until i begin to resemble every bad memory, every terrible fear, every nightmare anyone has ever had.
i ask did you ever love me? you say of course, of course so quickly that you sound like someone else i ask are you made of steel? are you made of iron? you cry on the phone, my stomach hurts
i let you leave, i need someone who knows how to stay.