August 24, 2012

Ancient Viscera

Eso Robinson




We wind our way through the ruins of Wupatki, naturally gathering in what once was the central communal space, sitting in intervals, degrees of a compass, in relative silence.  A constant soft sound is that of pencil on paper, and the insect-like clicking of cameras.  (Any other mechanical sounds have already begun to seem foreign.)  




The viscera of the water and wind-worn stones draws me in, as do the details always - their textures highlighted by the suns angles, shadows accumulating in concavities. Such forms are hard evidence of elemental effects - time and weather’s persistence.



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