Wednesday, December 17, 2008


D300 - 185 mm, 1/400 sec f/9.0, ISO 400

Holding water with my hands cupped,
feathers ready to leave my wing
I shouldn't want to leave the last one,
the dearest one.

How dare they say it! How inconsistent the thought
of the new dwarfing the old.
Unique remnant of a past life
it shall always be open to uncountable alternatives.

Savoring the sweet taste of the many futures
offered by the knowledge of the past,
I am oblivious of time
slipping by.


  1. [ Irreversibilita'

    Nel trattenere l'acqua con le mani,
    nelle piume che lasciano le mie ali,
    Non dovrei voler abbandonare l'ultima,
    la piu' cara.

    come possono affermarlo! non e' forse vuoto il pensiero
    del nuovo che sovrasta il vecchio.
    Singolare retaggio di una vita passata
    sempre aperto ad infinite possibilita'.

    Gusto la dolcezza dei molti futuri
    concessa dalla conoscenzaa del passato.
    E nel mentre dimentico
    che il tempo sfugge. ]

  2. Dear friends, forgive this rant in form of a poem. It is really not worthy your kind commenting. I also realize it's rather unintelligible for those who don't know me.
    This post is about the sensation I feel when mumbling over past events, living them again and playing with their possibilities in hypothetical futures, futures which are imagined and constructed from the very past these events are embedded. In toying with these thoughts and the sensations thereby derived, I wonder about the importance of the known past, with its wealth of possible developments, and the real (unknown) future.
    I hold unto it like I would with water poured in cupped hands, drinking it avidly by knowing it won't last long.

  3. The photo and words are beautiful, AC. Your explanation is universal. Thank you.

  4. i really like the imagery of holding water.. because of course you can't really grasp water.. just slips right out and i think this is a good metaphor for the feelings you're describing here.