“She lost herself in the trees among the ever-changing leaves. She wept beneath the wild sky as stars told stories of ancient times. The flowers grew towards her light, the river called her name at night. She could not live an ordinary life With the mysteries of the universe hidden in her eyes.” – Christy Ann
I took these photos in Budapest at the memorial to the people (mostly Jews) shot and thrown into the Danube in ‘44 by the Arrow Cross party. [Link]
It was strangely pretty but creepy at the same time to see so many scattered metal cast shoes, rusting by the edge of the river. Some had pairs, others were odd. There were long, laced boots, large shoes, pretty shoes… They looked so vulnerable somehow, despite being made from such a robust material. They looked about to tip into the river.