Violet Coat/Violet Hour

Violet Coat/Violet Hour

Crepuscular Carn. I’d lain in bed all day – through the church bells, the crows scraping on the slates, the farmers sons motorbike. And walked for the last clocks foward hour. It was all souls day. Tempted to put cans of beer and cigarettes on the miners graves opposite – Romanian gypsy style! But walked for the last hour of light. The violet hour when things promise a vivid oscillation.

The terre grey green and a violet coat. The form. Drapery over belly. Senses ultra-sounding something – the weight of a back straining virgin. Embryo nuzzling its own nebulous oblivion. Enough to point the camera. Enough for an afternoon. enough for a lifetime.

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