Somewhere
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
e.e cummings
From the Travel Folio of Dustin Lynn
LOVE BIRDS – ABOARED THE FERRY TO THE ISLAND OF GRINDA, SWEDEN (2010)
OMBRES DES HOMMES – PARIS, FRANCE (2010)
From a series of photographs entitled Brass Tears, filmmaker, artist, and fervent traveler Dustin Lynn captures brilliant images of his solo odyssey from “Barcelona to Morocco, to Cannes, to Paris and ending on the Island of Grinda in Sweden.” More Photos After Jump
Lament
Jim – Lament
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Frida
“A little while ago, not much more than a few days ago, I was a child who went about in a world of colors, of hard and tangible forms. Everything was mysterious and something was hidden, guessing what it was was a game for me. If you knew how terrible it is to know suddenly, as if a bolt of lightning elucidated the earth. Now I live in a painful planet, transparent as ice; but it is as if I had learned everything at once in seconds.”
