Evenings

July 07, 2005

The clouds were fantastic at sunset when Laura and I got into her car and drove down country roads to prowl through cemeteries. She wanted to take pictures of graves, white, fragile, and weathered by time. I left her alone between the stones and walked out into the fields with the animals — everything was full of colour and barbed wires.

I spend too much time in cities — I forgot how beautiful grass looks at sunset and how to make the goat’s beard blow in the wind. I forgot the names of shrubs and trees. I have odd yearnings to be the natural man, to live naked and free in forests and medows.

One day I want to walk through mountains, from one end of the Appalachian Trail to the other. I want to know what clouds taste like.

Posted by Tudor at 01:00 PM in Various Positions | TrackBack

Comments

I love your picture entitled “Blow”. I think that it’s one of my favourite photos of yours that I’ve seen.

Posted by: Heidi on July 07, 2005 at 09:21 PM

Instead of playing ‘punch buggy’ with VWs, try playing ‘i.d. that tree’(: Getting whacked in the arm will up your ability to remember…

Posted by: spindriftdancer on July 07, 2005 at 10:19 PM

Clouds taste like air. Moisture-filled air.

Posted by: Dave on July 08, 2005 at 10:26 AM

hehehe, the picture is one of my favourite ones too. i should spend more outside taking pictures :).

and clouds are pretty great.

Posted by: Tudor on July 08, 2005 at 01:07 PM

Fuck, man.

You have such an incredible way with words. And you take amazing pictures too. Tell me you have some framed in your house/apartment/place where you live..

I’m envious.

Posted by: Jackie on July 09, 2005 at 05:20 AM

Thanks Jackie — your comments make me blush like crazy. and yes, I need more photos on my walls — that’s a wonderful idea :).

Posted by: Tudor on July 10, 2005 at 09:47 PM

Tudor, clouds taste dirty in the city, but if you take slightly greener than a VW form of public transport, oh say to the middle of nowhere, a mountain meadow when all the spring wild flowers are out would do, then the clouds taste sweet like millions of tiny drops of melted cotton candy. I have walked naked through such a meadow shrowded in cloud and felt the cloud’s gentle massage and carress on my body. The cloud will love you Tudor. You should go.

Posted by: L. Lenny on July 16, 2005 at 01:16 AM