And if...

There is more. What exactly does more mean? Another langscape? Another landguage? It is nature to look at the fescue on the other side of the divide and wonder at its marvelous greeness, luscious velosity. But it is movement that is at issue, or rather displacement.

Roberto dell Griva sits by the gunwale of the shipwrecked vessel. He ponders the idea that what he sees before him is yesterday. When he sees a bird flying there, he knows it is not there now. He can't swim. He knows that if he dives off the ship and swims toward the island, he will be swimming towards the day before. But, as mentioned, he cannot swim. Is this what it means to consider the verdosity of the fescue outside the limits of the enclosure? Of course it is. Get over it.

Low level fly-by

As we shuffle through the langscape, a landguage ensues. Keeping eyes on the ground, careful not to stumble on unforeseen events, a pattern emerges. It is really all about seeing those patterns, some call it conspiracy paranoia, others see it as simply paying attention. Il faut bien faire attention aux fentes dans le parcours tout en gardant les yeux bien fixés sur le but du voyage. C'est bien ici la particularité d'une mouvance, continue, lente, en perpétuité.

The River

Water,

Textures,

A walk.

Au tours

Getting around the subject is sometimes the only way to enter.

Entering the subject is sometimes the only way to get around it.

Mouvances Chapitre 3

Et puis il fut ce qu'il fut. Et parfois même la couleur fais des voyages.

News from the red planet

Good news, we have reached our destination according to prescribed itinerary. Rover pushes ahead, opening a path. We travel slowly in the crimson language of this space. It is accommodating in its hostility.

Between the Betweens

Sometimes, just sometimes, the photographers work is to see the gaps and absences rather than the stuff cluttering the langscape. The sticky feeling of nothing.

Mouvances

Since moving to Newfoundland and Labrador, the idea of slow travel has been buzzing around my head like the floor plan of some great novel. Usually opting for the more "agonizing" of modes like the bus and the ferry to move across larger distances, it is often striking how much time is given to reflection. One is not constantly bustled about from one checkpoint to the next, from the security clearance to the gate and so on.

There are beautiful passages on speed and movement in Alessandro Baricco's, "Cette Histoire-Là". But a few passages form a recent read are creeping into the thinking pattern. More about destinations that speed, but at the same time needing a certain lingering of motion to process.

"S'il s'en va, au demeurant, ce n'est nullement qu'il n'a pas été séduit par ce qu'il quitte; au contraire, c'est qu'il a tant aimé ce qu'il ient de connaître qu'il aspire à des contrées qui soient cela avec encore plus de rigueur, plus de consistance, plus de force: des contrées dont le pays des lacs ne serait en somme qu'un avant-goût édulcoré, une île ou un massif annonciateurs, un missus dominicus, un modèle réduit. Il aspire è l'original." R. Camus, Loin, p.289