eshu
invite only
Like a rumpled bed whose soft dents and creases retain the shape of the person who dreamed there last night, all of the objects we surround ourselves with become signifiers for who we are; they suggest a sense of our presence even when we are absent. A certain careful kindness is apparent in the way three flowers are arranged in a vase… a hidden shame makes itself known in the dust on a quiet record player. We leave parts of ourselves behind every day when we close our front doors.
And so despite its sweet, sexy wink of a title, pushing us gently away, this picture still whispers a secret in our ears about the two who share this bed. All of the rich lazy calm of domestic intimacy, softly rising from a striped curtain and the corner of a slept-on pillow.
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