Somewhere, on the corner of a street, there's a a lost fragment of a long forgotten silence. The city's tremors and hubbub are broken, yet silence has a new cloth which fills the air with smooth vibrance and peace. The Minstrel is there. And for an unknown reason to the rushed passers, he is and always will be there, somewhere. On that corner, or on the next one, or in the heart of those who shall stop time when passing by and then listen to his silence heal wounds of rush and worries.
writing with light
When the photograph is a mirror of the man, and the man is a mirror of the world, then Spirit might take over.
Minor White
Minor White
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Avatars of Minstrel #1
Music by Vivaldi - Winter in Fa minor, Largo
Somewhere, on the corner of a street, there's a a lost fragment of a long forgotten silence. The city's tremors and hubbub are broken, yet silence has a new cloth which fills the air with smooth vibrance and peace. The Minstrel is there. And for an unknown reason to the rushed passers, he is and always will be there, somewhere. On that corner, or on the next one, or in the heart of those who shall stop time when passing by and then listen to his silence heal wounds of rush and worries.
Somewhere, on the corner of a street, there's a a lost fragment of a long forgotten silence. The city's tremors and hubbub are broken, yet silence has a new cloth which fills the air with smooth vibrance and peace. The Minstrel is there. And for an unknown reason to the rushed passers, he is and always will be there, somewhere. On that corner, or on the next one, or in the heart of those who shall stop time when passing by and then listen to his silence heal wounds of rush and worries.
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