Description
After a spell of piercingly cold weather, I felt emboldened to visit the Como Conservatory. On the vast frozen plains of the twin cities in the dead of winter (and lacking a greenhouse of my own) it is the closest place I could think to find warm vaporous air to breath, at least the only place where it is filled with the smell of green and sunlight, however dim. The sun sets later every night now, but remains dim and low in the sky. Only here in this supposed temple to life is its power and greatness received, unharmed by the wind. February 15. Palm trees in the sunlight. Leaves cast dappled shadows as they flutter. Glitch, reorient, disorient. History, the past, before, back when, documentation, preservation, the rings on a stump. The present, glowing red, like blood flowing like sap. The image. Joint Photographic Experts Group. Portable Network Graphics. Every image, another image. A time and place, and every captured moment spit into the cloud. A special event, an occasion of meeting, two people or more in the room together. Breathing the exact same air. Nothing sentimental really.
The mood, faces filled with light and laughter and conversations about the future, what future? What will happen? Imagine it.
The Original
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