Porte de métal noir adossée au mur de briques rouges, briques mal jointes, briques travaillées par le temps, travaillées par le le sang blanc des hommes fourbus, mur des lamentations ordinaires, humaines, trop humaines...
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"She runs through the streets with her eyes painted red / Under a black belly of cloud in the rain / In through a doorway / She brings me white gold and pearls / Stolen from the sea she is raging, she is raging / And the storm blows up in her eyes / She will suffer the needle chill / She's running to stand still" (U2)
RépondreSupprimerA great play of textures, Francis. And a wall built out of single bricks is as hard to tear down as a concrete wall. But our spirit is free & also I stand here with my head against the wall my mind is flying. Great, my friend!
All the best & safe travels, Fritsch.
J'admire ce "mur des lamentations ordinaires". Mur ou non, tu gardes décidément la tête en fuite.
RépondreSupprimera nice study of textures here.. nicely captured..
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