I say one must be a seer, make oneself a seer. The poet makes himself a seer by an immense, long, deliberate derangement of all the senses.-- Arthur Rimbaud, Letter to Paul Demeny [May 15, 1871]
This is my magic skylight, sharing its own odd perspective on the world through its frame of thawing ice. When you look up through it, it toys with your orientation in space. I like that dizzy sensation, the momentary vision of the world as a new and thrilling place. In one of its earlier incarnations, fully covered with layers of ice, the skylight allowed enough light through to become a three-dimensional Mark Rothko painting. This morning its frame has melted and cracked, leaving the naked trees looming like crackled varnish, patterns backlit by February sun. I praise its kaleidoscope eye.
The photograph was taken 2/6/11.
8 comments:
Great post, Christine. It's a beautiful shot.
Thanks, Annie ... happy February!
When the skylight in my foyer gets covered with snow, the light that filters through is almost eerie to me. Not quite daylight, no longer direct sunlight or blue sky showing through. Maybe I'll call it a snow shadow.
I like how the word seer conflates with see-r, juxtaposed with your amazing photograph. Really lovely.
"Snow shadow" ... lovely! Hope to see you sooooooon ...
Hi, Pam -- yes, "see-r" as well. For sure.
Glorious!!
Why thank you, Ms. Mayo!
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