the shining moment

transparently clinging, I extend this moment of freedom to shine

As the sun warmed and melted the ice, leaves and rocks were freed from their temporary prisons, yet this leaf appeared to hold on. Preferring it's moment in the sun, to the free-fall into waiting water and rocks.

This second Ginsberg sentence took me a week to figure out. The photo was simple with the rich textures and colors of water ice and stone, but how to share that feeling of clinging to the shining moment? Especially in the face of the cold wet (at best) future. Fortunately we rarely see our futures as clearly. Still would we be wise to pause and reflect the light that comes our way?

frozen in memory

strangely this lifeless husk shines anew in shattered crystal memory

My personal coach and artistic critic, Val, suggests that I use the Ginsberg Sentence to sharpen my writing. I combine this 17 syllable sentence with another (failed) attempt at a black and white photo.

Memory is a fact of nature. Correction: "selective memory" is a fact of nature. Fossils tease us with exciting bits of memory, obscuring more than they reveal. This leaf, encased in ice, shining again in winter, as it shone in the fall sun, showcases the best of the past season. Yet most of the leaves have not been saved, they are crumbled, buried, on their way to compost, as this leaf will be when the ice gives up it's hold.

Still we treasure the beauty, save up the golden moments, until we, too, give up our hold.