Thursday, May 21, 2009
Falling? Flying?
No fall is ever great.
The distance from the tip of the nose
to the dirt is always measured in the smallest units.
It is always ridiculous, always too human, the
concrete body against the concrete soil,
the sight losing focus, and the hands,
the hands.
Richard Beacham's drawing, at the Boxbird gallery in London.
Labels:
painting/photo
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