November 29, 2009
One Room Living At Its Finest
Not much to say about this really other than I really like it and wanted to share it with my friends. It’s from my last trip to Crete and it was the most delightful room, full of voices and spirits.
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15 Responses to “One Room Living At Its Finest”
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I remember this view of the same locale. In this photo, it is as though the people have been spirited way in the loveliest possible fashion.
Phil, what enchants me especially about this photograph is getting a fuller view of a room only glimpsed heretofore (in an earlier post). The mood feels different; it is like a story you are slowly revealing. In the photo you posted prior to this, it was the cold, blackened hearth that drew my eye, and I imagined a cold abyss into which life and warmth had vanished. In this ‘episode’ I see the vase of flowers at the core of the room and imagine the people as having been spirited away — through that inviting window — in the loveliest possible fashion.
I see other things for which I do not have a vocabulary.
Thank you, Sheila – it looks a little darker here than it does on my computer.
It was a charming room, full of stories.
The mirror. The window. I could look at this forever.
Phil, when you find these places, do you always photograph them as found, or do you sometimes compose scenes? I’d be tempted to spend an entire day in a place, first photographing all as I found it, then creating little scenes, little stories out of the detritus. Hell, then I’d probably just move in. This is why I am not let out very often.
Cindy, they are mostly as found, this one was! Occasionally things are in an impossible place to photograph so I will bring them into shot, but, not that often.
Cindy, maybe you and I could bust into places and play house and record our little stories.
Oh, girl. Would I like to take you to ‘the old Lon Chaney ranch’, if it still exists. If ever I find the photos I took, I will post some.
Thanks, Phil. Doesn’t it amaze you that it looks as if someone has been almost living in these places? I wonder if Crete is inhabited by Sheilas and Cindys who go about in the darkness setting up little scenes.
Cretan Cindy. Cretan Sheila. All dressed in black.
Two women with mustaches.
Kinda ninja-like.
You bet. But not quite so silent. Muttering.
Muttering mustachioed ninjas with a caravan.
The play of light in this photograph is really something quite special.
There is such a woman here, standing, just behind the vase of flowers holding out to her left, what once was a light.
Why, yes. There she is.