Eye look

Ground #30

The art of Uta Barth has room, a lot, for imagination, or not much at all. Some write that one is forced to invest in looking, growing a heightened sense or sensitivity, to see things we forget to see.

I don’t photograph for art; I take a picture, mostly abrupt, intentional. My views will limit but for my world the universe lies within.

Field #14

Untitled from nowhere near #6

Last night I had a horrific dream. I still say dream because a nightmare for me involves projection.

In it my head had become beheaded in an accident and a new head grew in its place. The old head lay by the side of a road, on a grassy patch knocked between the exposed roots of a tree.

A group of people, ones I must have known, forced the old head onto me. To look at it, which had worms and skulls of its own by then. They held the disfigured and contained head within an opaque plastic bag, pushing it into my face. I ducked, it rolled on the ground, still in the bag. Earlier I had noticed I looked at the tree’s roots, left, right, and the surrounding grass, everywhere but that spot on which the head sat within its bag.

I had fish head steamboat in the evening. It had its fill.

photo sources: Sies + Höke, Tanya Bonakdar Gallery.