Polaroids
I have been collecting Polaroids this week.
The first ones correspond to a shady way back home after work. In one of them a boy that is on charge of the street cleaning of my area appears. He is idle, leaning against a fence, playing inattentively with his ipod. He is thoughtful, dreamy. It looks as something is hurting him inside.
A little bit further I took one of another of my "habitual" ones. A lazy cat that always sleeps close to the post box. Every time our looks meet I have the feeling that he (or she) is much more intelligent than me.
Some others correspond to one of the days of the week that I have been sent to the bank. It was a really hot day. I want to remember now that the sun blinded my eyes, at least for some moments. When I said bye to the cashier she smiled at me and I almost was happy for the rest of the day. I was arriving at the bookshop and I noticed that a man was rescueing from a pile of junk a strip of passport photos abandoned by its original owner. I blamed myself for not having seen them first.
In my last Polaroid appears Felix, my landlord's son. His father is sleeping in the sofa and he shakes his little hand and whispers "bye bye". I am late to work again.
The first ones correspond to a shady way back home after work. In one of them a boy that is on charge of the street cleaning of my area appears. He is idle, leaning against a fence, playing inattentively with his ipod. He is thoughtful, dreamy. It looks as something is hurting him inside.
A little bit further I took one of another of my "habitual" ones. A lazy cat that always sleeps close to the post box. Every time our looks meet I have the feeling that he (or she) is much more intelligent than me.
Some others correspond to one of the days of the week that I have been sent to the bank. It was a really hot day. I want to remember now that the sun blinded my eyes, at least for some moments. When I said bye to the cashier she smiled at me and I almost was happy for the rest of the day. I was arriving at the bookshop and I noticed that a man was rescueing from a pile of junk a strip of passport photos abandoned by its original owner. I blamed myself for not having seen them first.
In my last Polaroid appears Felix, my landlord's son. His father is sleeping in the sofa and he shakes his little hand and whispers "bye bye". I am late to work again.
1 Comments:
Enjoying your polaroids blog, at first we thought you meant you'd actually been taking polaroids but then we realised we would have seen you with such a machine at work...
Also just noticed your link to Kathe Kollwitz, her 'Mutter mit Jungen' lithograph has pride of place in my miniscule hallway!
Hasta pronto
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