Curved sticks laid around a river boulder. Took longer to find the sticks than to make the work. Woody creek, Colorado. 16 September 2006. © Andy Goldsworthy
"Unpainted Door" - Louise Glück
Finally, in middle age, I was tempted to return to childhood. The house was the same, but the door was different. Not red anymore— unpainted wood. The trees were the same: the oak, the copper beech. But the people— all the inhabitants of the past— were gone: lost, dead, moved away. The children from across the street old men and women. The sun was the same, the lawns parched brown in summer. But the present was full of strangers. And in some way it was all exactly right, exactly as I remembered: the house, the street, the prosperous village— Not to be reclaimed or re-entered but to legitimize silence and distance, distance of place, of time, bewildering accuracy of imagination and dream— I remember my childhood as a long wish to be elsewhere. This is the house; this must be the childhood I had in mind.
You’ve got me seeing stars, brighter than ever,
Shining just like diamonds do.
I know that in time it could be all ours, brighter than ever,
Your love is such a dream come true
I know, I know, I know I need you
A visual allegory of “your party was going great and all, you were carried on a throne, and your parents came back sooner than they swore”. Details: various interpretations of The Empire, by Thomas Cole (1801-1848). Details by Steven Zucker.
Dirk Bogarde and Ava Gardner photographed on the set of The Angel Wore Red (1960).
