:)
The best stories are the ones that leave some things unsaid.
Once the muse has arrived, her hair has spilled forth, and the light has done its job, the tale is told. It’s not my place to demand a view of her eyes. Her hands might very well be cold, or spattered with ink or blood; who knows? It’s none of my business.
I don’t wonder where she was before she came, or whether the scent of leaves followed her in. I am content in not knowing.
Everything I am entitled to in this story is in the light, spilling into and over and between, as her hair tumbles down from the shadow. How extraordinary, this — a hint of texture and soft motion, a captured glow, with no further promise. Just one gorgeous reminder of right now, right here, before the moment passes and is gone.
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Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Jenn Wilson and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
