Photo Story: Imaginary Number
Before the necktie hung itself, a knot doing unto me what the body did; before the engine, fuel wound, light, I was the instrument and the song, un-living on the vocal cord of God, an imaginary number on a line I couldn’t see. And then it appeared, before I had a word for eye, before I had a word for word, the wide-open face of a ticking clock: that swaying drop of amber light, its tapered head a glowing dancer, disembodied, slick and soft. A darkened room, a window. A world behind it, waiting, like a box of scattered light.
Photo Credit: Jen Lund
Brilliantly penned!
Transience, evanescence, impermanence … these are the thoughts your piece evoked.