Lost Lanes
Created on Friday, 2. June 2006.
Lost lanes of Queen Anne's lace. Interstices. Weeds. Things that go unnoticed. I suppose you could say they are the cement between the bricks of my life. In England what I love is literally the soil, and all that springs from it. This includes the weather. The society I can tolerate only when I see it as in some way an expression of the soil. I long to be buried beneath this green grass, this damp earth. I find myself in the quietness of a country stile, which seems to shrug off the dates of history, though it's true this landscape, like an individual's personality, timeless in it's own forgetfulness of where it comes from, somehow presupposes history.
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Photo albums
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- Letters from Quentin
- Me and a lovely bitch
- At work
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- Chicago
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- Address to the Nation
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- Winter
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- Silly Self-Portraits
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- Back to the Shire (Devon)
- Lost Lanes
- Crystal Japan
- Images
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