:: sutilezas ::
"sameness relation between the sudden change of the iris and the surrounding light of dusk" she nodded, as she tends to do when the unsettled and unsettling voices in her head add something to the purity of moments where cavilation seems futile.__when pupils contract, a very specific type of pain takes place, probably similar to that produced by the change in the color shown by the many muscles that compose the iris; "curious how precisely now awareness is of the eyes and nothing more" once again she nods.__all of her photo-graphs have the same tonalities involved, it seems she cannot evade yellow "the only color that is not part of the spectrum in a pure form
, one could say it does not even exist" now she tenses up her mouth and a slight grin product of some strange satisfaction sees the light "you're always looking for that
, the portayal of something that cannot be said properly to exist".__like the static from an old recording, she visualizes -for it is not merely sound perception taking place now-the movement of subtle particles in the air, a tension so large, so deep, so present it could freeze anyone else, destroy any invasive elements of that purity; "you need not explain this" affirmative gestures.__division of the rays of artificial light by means of the usually insignificant drops of water -whatever that may be- and a soundtrack that begins to have importance, that becomes, i am afraid to say, once more
important "you cannot know anything unless you have known it previously".__golden reddish strands of hair growing from her arms appear to have conscience of what she will not tell herself, in a manner that simulates a grand applause, an ovation, a request for an encore, they deny gravity and levitate upon her "now it is not only the eyes, fear not, adrenaline will keep you going" with closed eyes the head describes a vertical line in the air "you cannot refuse me, i am merely the expression of what you need not say".__on a night with no moon all leafs turn blue, but still she seeks yellow.
coming in through my ears::Paris Lounge/Gotan Project