Time stands still - Derelict Thursday
This picture comes with a lot of background.
1. It forced me to nearly build up a studio to get the light and the details right. A little progress from my IPhone use lately. You may want to enjoy the shine in large?
2. It reminded me of the moment I found it: In an old barn of an equally derelict farm that was for sale in the Dordogne Area in France. During my search for a place where I could retire later I visited a lot of interesting real estate in that area. Most and this one in particular promised too much work, it would have been a real "Fixer-upper".
In the corner of the barn, hidden underneath old straw, dust and dirt there was this old alarm clock, that must have chased generations out of their beds in the morning to milk the cows. Dented, dusty and brown, it couldn't be called a beauty anymore. But I love "old" and "used", I love rust and dents and I particularly loved the name: Réveil Magique.
Next to it under the straw I found an old cardboard photograph maybe from the early twenties, showing two nuns with severe looks and very uncomfortable looking dresses on both sides of a class of little girls, with lots of big ribbons in their hair and buttoned black boots, but otherwise rather dressed poorly. It felt as if I had found the hidden treasures of the farmers wife...
All of this gives my mind enough "food" to invent many stories.
3. This might make you meditate about "time". How we hurry through our life. And how, one day, for all of us, time will stand still.
It is also interesting to think that the material objects that are created by men and are often dear to us, survive us by hundreds of years.
4. And last but not least this reminds me of our own aging, where life will not only consist of one derelict Thursday but our whole body turns into something more and more derelict, day by day. I feel this already now. How will the end product be? Like a gnarly old tree? Like a rusty old car, but still beautiful in its aging? (I am thinking of Miffy's car today). Will there be dignity in being derelict?
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