Afrodisias, Turkiet.
Bilderna från 1964, Ara Güler
And that seemed like Hell to me, that destruction of layers and layers of human archaeology.
Clarice Lispector
Fotnavlad
What we seek is love itself, revealed now and again in human form, but pushing us beyond our humanity into animal instinct and god-like success. There is no love that does not pierce the hands and feet... Jeanette Winterson. Love, the deadly wound from which my life slowly bleeds, there I am preserved ...Birgitta Trotzig
lördag 19 oktober 2019
Jordtagningsplats
En av mina jordtagningsplatser i mitten av 1980-talet.
Afrodisias, Turkiet.
Bilderna från 1964, Ara Güler
Life was taking its vengeance on me, and that vengeance consisted merely in coming back, nothing more. Every case of madness involves something coming back. People who are possessed are not possessed by something that just comes but instead by something that comes back. Sometimes life comes back. If in me everything crumbled before that power, it is not because that power was itself necessary an overwhelming one: it in fact had only to come, since it had already become too full-flowing a force to be controlled or contained - when it appeared it overran everything. And then, like after a flood, there floated a wardrobe, a person, a loose window, three suitcases.
And that seemed like Hell to me, that destruction of layers and layers of human archaeology.
Afrodisias, Turkiet.
Bilderna från 1964, Ara Güler
And that seemed like Hell to me, that destruction of layers and layers of human archaeology.
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