It seems a shield, a question. A mask of innocence, a cry of terror. A look of longing, a sense of shame, white forgetfulness. The mark of blame. Two black eyes that stare not, the focus of the way of all life, but now forgot. Looking for love, but caught defiled. Strip away the mask and all is revealed… But that place sacred to all truth and life. Face of mother and daughter in one breath, gate barring the way from one life to the next. Nothing…. It is the face of childish innocence and innocence, that gasp of the soul before the moment of the experience. That fear which we all feel before the dawn of understanding, wither it be good or bad. The way you portrayed this notion, that of the fairytales and the mind, of innocence and the fear that we live through to grow is in my mind truly brilliant. The body stripped down to only itself and protected by that one small, but white shield that speaks as the soul bared is beyond words. The worn look of the photos, like a blackened soul and the feeling of chaos in the calm… I wish I could put better words to it, but your work I believe will always leave me like this, and that, that is why I like it so much. Bravo my friend. Bravo.
this is such a powerful, wonderful image...much as i admire bettelheim, much as i adore schubert, this image is so strong, it hits me somewhere their ideas and art cannot reach, it makes me think the collective unconscious is breaking through, unexpectedly, in unexpected ways.
Une image très forte. Je n'arrive pas à mettre en mots l'impression qu'elle me fait. Quelque chose du choc surréaliste, mais pas de l'ordre de "la rencontre fortuite sur une table de dissection d'une machine à coudre et d'un parapluie".