Photograph in Concrete and Stone:
Writers, before you go, as the rock writer says, stop and see this scene as a painter or a sculptor would: the poles, the trees, the cross, the weird loop of grey pipe, and what’s with those two white splats, eh? It has something to do with the spilled rocks and the boulder’s shadow. The words got my attention, but then I realized they were a flash in the pan. If photography, as a technological art, creates art out of time (every photograph is art after a hundred years, no exceptions), perhaps landscapes created out of manufactured bits are the same thing. When a people live within their art, words can only cry out, as if they were objects themselves.