Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

come on in, please. won't you come on in? I've asked the light to shine for you and I'm sure the radiator will burn its oils if only you'll enter. I miss the way you used to fill me up and the odd time when you'd grip my side, the magical way your shadow segmented on the steps as you climbed. you don't use me anymore. I miss you entering me. I used to provide such a good service. There was a time when I was important to you, do you remember? You needed me. I stood here and protected you. I protected your possessions. I received your mail, your guests, your lovers, you. You replaced all of my hardware once. Glimmering chrome door knobs, a mirror like letter box plate. numbers 1 and 9 screwed into my wood. shimmering chrome number plates, plates cut from the surface of the sun. You used to polish them every sunday. You made me look so beautiful with your touch and your care. Now I've been left here. Locked up and useless.



my paint is flaking. you would have never stood for that. no matter how much you say you love decay. you'd never have allowed me to wilt that way. all the colours you gave me are showing now. some family scrap book! the years peel off in lead paint chip ways. Isn't anyone even curious as to the secrets I hold? Unlock me, enter me, come and see what I can show you, what I can give you. If only you'd pass through me one more time.

oh man, this broke my heart, so to speak.... really sad but beautifully written.

yur a pleasure to read bennie.

thank you

I don't swear alot, not anymore. But its never that far away from me, e.g. - FUCKING MAGNIFICENT, BENNIE2!!!!

thank you both, mingo and perdida.

I wrote a line in an email to someone about how my "child's eyes" (poet's eyes) have grown back recently and I'm starting to fall in love with little things again. blown inside-out umbrellas, paint flaking door ways... then I went into a whole bit about the sadness of a forgotten doorway... so I wrote this straight after.

I quite like it myself. thanks for the comments.

maybe it could work as a companion piece to MT's "chair"

moving, bennie. there is something about ruins, about passionate endeavor and dreams left to the four winds to slowly decay, unloved, not believed in any more. good eyes.

nice nostalgic reverie, bennie

I love the personification of the door

and great illumination with the pics

I spent the best part of my childhood gnawing lead paint off of windowsills
(does this help to explain my mental condition?)

Thanks, Nazz, clay.

The paint chips could be partially to blame, lr. but of course, it all depends on the colour of paint.

wow, bennie!!! the second door looks so still alive somehow that I guess I could answer to it!!!!! great photos, tender writing!!!!!!!

It's a Great Work.

Very much enjoyed.

Peace,
Barry

oh, truly cool. how did i miss this before?(oh, i know, jet lag....never mind)

wonderful, tactile photos, longing for a little love