Daisy Fae, I remember a photo of you and Nurse Myra in which your arms are draped over her. YOUR hands are beautiful hands.
My mother has beautiful hands, I just love them.
They are very elegant. I asked her if I could photograph them and she said yes; now I just have to do it.
I remember them as soft, cool, and soothing to my forehead when I was unwell when little.
There’s a standing joke between us:
Little Me: Oh, Mummy, your hands are so soft! Oh, they’re just like an old leather glove!
photograph those hands, my dear. my fingers? they came from my father. his hands… they were amazing. and i’ve rooted through photographs, trying to find them – but have been unsuccessful. take those photos. take them today….
Oh, yes, her fingers. This comparison pleases me a great deal, especially as I wasn’t thinking of any such thing when I made this image. Thank you, Robert.
What I had in my mind’s eye were the colours of my blouse, of my nails, and of the stone (Aventurine or Jade, I think, but don’t know); also the little objects: key, skull, stone, candle.
Thank you, Richard. I wonder what you’re trying to decode.
The key: The key to the box within which lay the ashes of one of the greatest joys of my life: Jack the Cat. Also a heart-shaped rose quartz crystal, one of Jack’s claws that I found in the carpet after he’d gone, and a tiny bit of lavender.
The skull: Everyone has one and I see it as symbolic of the ‘sameness’ of us all – in a good way. And I do think about death a lot. Not so morbid as it sounds. I try to come to grips with the nature of it and loss in general. I know that death is a part of life but I find it hard to actually accept, though occasionaly I’d like to leave this dubious party and go home.
The stone: I think it’s aventurine which is good for ease of communication with other people. Otherwise it’s jade which is good too, for what I can’t remember. Whatever. I like the colour.
The candle: Amnesty International Symbol. Probably my favourite charitable organisation. Defenders of free speech. Champions of those persecuted/jailed/murdered for their beliefs.
I love everything about this, Ashley!
Hi, Leslee. x
Thank you.
Very nice.I like the nail polish
Thanks, Shaun. I’m fascinated with the colour of that nail polish: I keep on changing my mind as to whether or not I like it. I like THAT about it.
I confess I am really not sure about that nail polish, but then it is not my area of expertise.
Nice photo though.
I’m not sure either. I want to call it ‘Institution Green’ to be partners with ‘Mission Brown.’
But it has nothing to do with expertise, only aesthetic preferences.
you have absolutely beautiful hands!
Daisy Fae, I remember a photo of you and Nurse Myra in which your arms are draped over her. YOUR hands are beautiful hands.
My mother has beautiful hands, I just love them.
They are very elegant. I asked her if I could photograph them and she said yes; now I just have to do it.
I remember them as soft, cool, and soothing to my forehead when I was unwell when little.
There’s a standing joke between us:
Little Me: Oh, Mummy, your hands are so soft! Oh, they’re just like an old leather glove!
I meant it in the nicest possible way.
photograph those hands, my dear. my fingers? they came from my father. his hands… they were amazing. and i’ve rooted through photographs, trying to find them – but have been unsuccessful. take those photos. take them today….
Thank you, Daisy Fae, very much. x
I’d like to photograph yours, too.
Strength, courage and vulnerability…this is what I see.
It’s lovely, Ashley.
I’m not sure how to reply except to say you have a sensitive eye and I thank you, Karen.
Much like many of your other images–the feeling of spontaneity — carefully composed — an intuition for color harmony.
Lovely.
–for me, this picture recalls Stieglitz’ closeup images of Georgia O’Keefe.
That’s two very fine compliments, John.
Actually, three. Thank you very much indeed.
Johns second comment… YES!
What he said! What he said!
What I had in my mind’s eye were the colours of my blouse, of my nails, and of the stone (Aventurine or Jade, I think, but don’t know); also the little objects: key, skull, stone, candle.
mysterious…
Hmm, really?
Absolutely love this composition, Ashley. Now furiously trying to decode it…
Thank you, Richard. I wonder what you’re trying to decode.
The key: The key to the box within which lay the ashes of one of the greatest joys of my life: Jack the Cat. Also a heart-shaped rose quartz crystal, one of Jack’s claws that I found in the carpet after he’d gone, and a tiny bit of lavender.
The skull: Everyone has one and I see it as symbolic of the ‘sameness’ of us all – in a good way. And I do think about death a lot. Not so morbid as it sounds. I try to come to grips with the nature of it and loss in general. I know that death is a part of life but I find it hard to actually accept, though occasionaly I’d like to leave this dubious party and go home.
The stone: I think it’s aventurine which is good for ease of communication with other people. Otherwise it’s jade which is good too, for what I can’t remember. Whatever. I like the colour.
The candle: Amnesty International Symbol. Probably my favourite charitable organisation. Defenders of free speech. Champions of those persecuted/jailed/murdered for their beliefs.
This portrait is a polished composition. Delicate feminine mystery – hand, neck, key & skull. Very well done.
Just the nails, Joseph, just the nails.