It was not long ago (just a couple of months past); i had the pleasure of a conversation, by phone, with a very, very talented photographer – during the call, i had nothing but questions – and no answers.
And after a bit, i got bold – “Jim, among the treasures, that are your pictures- would you find one for me. Something – colorful – just fun – unmitigated joy (and when you’re done with that – there is that thing about the stables). There is, still a place in my heart, in my life where that lives – and i really want to show that to the rest of the world. And shame on ‘um if they can’t take a joke.”
And I received this image. All – all and more.
Thank you, JAMES MICHAEL MOORE, thank you. there is a place in this world for a spastic old fart like me.
(Forgive the poor quote; read the T.S.Elliot, any T.S.Elliott)
There is a still point, a point between the up and the down, not moving to the left or right, to or fro, still. Dancing, that moment when – it is that moment – still – not glancing but seeing – still – it is a point in a dance – any and every moment of a dance and it’s all about the dance. And the still point – the still point – the still point is the dance.
for those that may not have known, Jim is my son