This image contains a cruel metaphor of life and death! It is with brutal force that he pulls back those enormous and unimaginable masses of water, to render parts of the beach naked. Organisms die, sometime instantly, as they can only breath if their oxygen comes in the from of water. Now they are outside their element.
The tide is a metaphor of movement, of coming and going - the interplay of words and images. As with the tide, where it is difficult to distinguish the incoming wave from the beach being approached; it is difficult to separate the word from the image or vice versa.
We tend to store a lot of words and images in our memory. The memory another tidal metaphor. The tidal flow of our memories, as they come and go. It is interesting that we remember so few of our experiences consciously. The vast majority is floating around somewhere in that ocean we tend to call our brain, in the deep seas of silence, the unconscious. It is from there that they influence our lives without us knowing how, often without us being able to alter or influence their tidings.
The colours of the photo flow from one into the other, there is no distinguishable shape but looking at it one can 'hear' the now silent melody of an ocean far removed. The unconscious at display - no wonder when one considers how this photo was taken, to then be reproduced. Reproduction being another beautiful metaphor that of remembering one wonders what it was that was being unconsciously remembered.
Being a hopeless romantic, I do adore the 'one' we do not see in this photo but whose presence is beyond denial.
Flighty Furrow 19/11/2009 12:49
Ah just in time, had to fine-tune my comment a bit. Update uploaded, just now. Have a nice day!Flighty Furrow 18/11/2009 19:46
.This image contains a cruel metaphor of life and death! It is with brutal force that he pulls back those enormous and unimaginable masses of water, to render parts of the beach naked. Organisms die, sometime instantly, as they can only breath if their oxygen comes in the from of water. Now they are outside their element.
The tide is a metaphor of movement, of coming and going - the interplay of words and images. As with the tide, where it is difficult to distinguish the incoming wave from the beach being approached; it is difficult to separate the word from the image or vice versa.
We tend to store a lot of words and images in our memory. The memory another tidal metaphor. The tidal flow of our memories, as they come and go. It is interesting that we remember so few of our experiences consciously. The vast majority is floating around somewhere in that ocean we tend to call our brain, in the deep seas of silence, the unconscious. It is from there that they influence our lives without us knowing how, often without us being able to alter or influence their tidings.
The colours of the photo flow from one into the other, there is no distinguishable shape but looking at it one can 'hear' the now silent melody of an ocean far removed. The unconscious at display - no wonder when one considers how this photo was taken, to then be reproduced. Reproduction being another beautiful metaphor that of remembering one wonders what it was that was being unconsciously remembered.
Being a hopeless romantic, I do adore the 'one' we do not see in this photo but whose presence is beyond denial.