Amazing how, even dealing with the after-effects of tainted h2o you, you see and capture this. Love the interplay of light and shadow, hard and battered doors and loosely-woven, floaty fabric. The tones, too, are so complementary. Like the previous, wedding, photo this one evokes something very different from the reality;-)
I can imagine in the throes of such an illness that this room might seem either quaint or scary. Small room, last room. Charmed room, sick room. I like the lines and light, a closer darkness, a distance bright.
Anne-Marie, it was a rough time, but it didn't kill me ;^) And yes, these kinds of details fascinate me.
Thanks Barbara. Actually the colours, particularly of the curtain, are rather appropriate. But maybe I'll say no more ;^)
Zhoen — that smallest room made quite an impression on me. I saw plenty of it.
Robin Andrea, actually, it just seemed grotty. As soon as I could stagger along the road, I found a much cleaner and more comfortable place — more expensive, but definitely worth it. I like the poem — thanks :^)
Ooop! I know THAT feeling! Had it twice, once in the Philippines, once (and this was so bad I was curled in a ball for a week) in the northern part of Japan after I went swimming in a lake.
Miguel, thanks for the thoughts — very pleased you like it so much. That sounds like a real dose you had. I felt like death warmed up for a day or two, then pretty weak and uncomfortable for the best part of a week. But ornidazole's a wonderful thing ;^)
Oh dear. I guess this photo doesn't evoke happy memories for you! But it is a beautiful photo ... I love detail like this.
ReplyDeleteAmazing how, even dealing with the after-effects of tainted h2o you, you see and capture this. Love the interplay of light and shadow, hard and battered doors and loosely-woven, floaty fabric. The tones, too, are so complementary. Like the previous, wedding, photo this one evokes something very different from the reality;-)
ReplyDeleteAh, the impression made on us by small rooms. Or the Smallest Room.
ReplyDeleteI can imagine in the throes of such an illness that this room might seem either quaint or scary. Small room, last room. Charmed room, sick room. I like the lines and light, a closer darkness, a distance bright.
ReplyDeleteAnne-Marie, it was a rough time, but it didn't kill me ;^) And yes, these kinds of details fascinate me.
ReplyDeleteThanks Barbara. Actually the colours, particularly of the curtain, are rather appropriate. But maybe I'll say no more ;^)
Zhoen — that smallest room made quite an impression on me. I saw plenty of it.
Robin Andrea, actually, it just seemed grotty. As soon as I could stagger along the road, I found a much cleaner and more comfortable place — more expensive, but definitely worth it.
I like the poem — thanks :^)
Ooop! I know THAT feeling! Had it twice, once in the Philippines, once (and this was so bad I was curled in a ball for a week) in the northern part of Japan after I went swimming in a lake.
ReplyDeleteI love the elegance and subtlety of this image.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of a Wyeth painting.
ReplyDeleteMiguel, thanks for the thoughts — very pleased you like it so much. That sounds like a real dose you had. I felt like death warmed up for a day or two, then pretty weak and uncomfortable for the best part of a week. But ornidazole's a wonderful thing ;^)
ReplyDelete