On my daily walk in a more than familiar park I sometimes give myself a challenge: if I had to make a little book about this walk, what would I bring back?
Previously I have gathered red dots on trees, and felt worried as to their ominous significance. But thankfully all those trees are still standing. I have done nothing else while preparing an entire book on wooden pilings, taking pictures of them over and over again. They were always the same and always different, like Verlaine’s poem (‘… qui n’est chaque fois ni tout à fait la même ni tout à fait une autre…’) And in the same vein I am gathering a wonderful sampler of the shades of rust.
I’m a collector at heart and today it was easy: everything around here is green (and mouldy) from too much rain. So green it would be, and it’d better be good!
The clouds were changing the light and thus the shades of green, initials on a tree made me wonder how long ago they had been carved and if this person was still living here, and the images became more and more abstract as I moved on: growth rings in a gate pole, a mysterious sign on one lamp post, pure algae on another and a combination of paint and mould on a crumbling brick wall –like a Gerhard Richter painting.
I played my game and came home with a harvest of photos on my cellphone, feeling energised and happy.
Cage 1 – 6 – Gerhard Richter (2006)