Time wakens a longing more poignant than all the longings caused by the division of lovers in space, for there is no road back into its country. Our bodies were not made for that journey; only the imagination can venture upon it; and the setting out, the road, and the arrival: all is imagination. Our memories of a place, no matter how fond we were of it, are little more than a confusion of lights on a ground of darkness.—Edwin Muir
Enlarged close in view of water fountain
Sweetist Moments Ever
Archival pigment print on Hahnemuhle Photo Rag, 17 x 22 Edition1/1
Above and Below
Just Enough
Seeing Red
shade beneath palms and tamirind trees on beach at South Miami Beach
