albicocca1
wanted
Framed photos of armless mannequins in what appears to be an industrial cellar. This one of those images that compel you to look largely because of the absence of context. What’s going on here? What is this? Why is this here? But even as you ask those questions, some part of your brain has already accepted the reality of what you’re seeing.
When we accept slight amazement, we prepare ourselves to imagine great amazement and, in the world of the imagination, it becomes normal for an elephant, which is an enormous animal, to come out of a snail shell. — Gaston Bachelard
This photo offers us a slight amazement. It’s not overpowering; it’s a comfortable sort of amazement. The objects in the frame make no sense at all, and yet we are intrigued and study the photo in the hope that some sort of sense will reveal itself. It won’t — but that doesn’t matter. The fact is that simply by looking at this photograph we open up our mind enough to let in still larger amazements. Up to a point.
It would be exceptional, however, if we were to ask [the elephant] to go back into [the shell].
Opening your mind to slight amazement is irreversible. You cannot go back to a pre-amazement state. You are forevermore vulnerable to further amazements, of all sizes. Now that you’ve seen this photograph, you will similar examples of the odd and unusual lurking among the ordinary. You will find strange beauty there — beauty that others may not notice. Why? Because it has become normal to find beauty in framed photos of armless mannequins in what appears to be an industrial cellar. The elephant cannot return to the snail shell.
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, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
