In her eyes.
I would like it if for a day, I could see life through her eyes. Inhabit her soul, and through her eyes grasp how she perceives the world we live in, as we share days in days out; colors, landscapes, depth, dimension, scale, perspective... and me.
My wish unfortunately will remain a wish. And I can only capture and use the reflections "in her eyes" and hope that one day my blue sky will shy in their pure yet sophisticated blackness.
----
Mushaboom - Feist
Translation:
The framing, the beauty of the colors, as well as the originality of the image and the portrayal of one of Flora's gardens have all contributed to make "in her eyes" the winning photo of this 2007 edition of the competition.
This above picture was my first ever submission to a photography competition...
And guess what?
I won!
I had submitted more than one photo, and to be perfectly honest, the photograph that ended up winning the competition wasn't my favorite of the bunch. But what the hell, why am I even arguing and nagging when I actually won the thing!
Every year, Montreal organizes a showcase of experimental, "avant-garde" gardens, and ephemeral installations as part of the "International Flora Exhibition". In 2006 I had designed an installation that remained showcased for 2 years. This year's edition of Flora held a competition for the best picture in the show. "In her eyes" is not a photograph of our garden unfortunately, but it features "La Cathédrale de Bamboo" by Fabien Dreuil, Florian Fiebig, and Boris Pintado.
----
Lyric: Mushaboom, by Feist
Helping the kids out of their coats, But wait the babies haven't been born oh
Unpacking the bags and setting up, And planting lilacs and buttercups oh
But in the meantime we've got it hard, Second floor living without a yard
It may be years until the day, My dreams will match up with my pay
Old dirt road, (mushaboom, mushaboom)
knee deep snow (mushaboom, mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow (mushaboom, mushaboom)
o-o-o-o-old
I got a man to stick it out, And make a home from a rented house oh
And we'll collect the moments one by one, I guess that's how the future's done oh
How many acres, how much light, Tucked in the woods and out of sight
Talk to the neighbours and tip my cap, On a little road barely on the map
Old dirt road, (mushaboom, mushaboom)
knee deep snow, (mushaboom, mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow, (mushaboom, mushaboom)
o-o-o-o-old (mushaboom, mushaboom)
Old dirt road rambling rose, (mushaboom, mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow, (mushaboom, mushaboom)
Well I'm Sold...
Labels: about her, memories., metropolis, photography, the flaneur
posted by _z. @ 11:12 PM
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