I don’t have much in me this eve, just a few links for you and a poem by Rilke.
This: Potraits to Fall in Love by. An Ode to Polaroids. Yes. Agreed. There’s something there. In those little boxes of aged-like colors with borders white.
and then, if you fancy, more of her photos here.
And now, Rilke. Who is among my favorites.
||Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.
She runs a bit, hesitates, stops,
and, all while dreaming, shakes her head
for or against.
Then she dances a few steps
that she invents and forgets,
no doubt finding out that life
moves on too fast.
It’s not so much that she steps out
of the small body enclosing her,
but that all she carries in herself
frolics and ferments.
It’s this dress that she’ll remember
later in a sweet surrender;
when her whole life is full of risks,
the little red dress will always seem right.