"You are speaking...as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing... what you call remembering is the last part of the ...
Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes—like the small flakes that come when it is going to snow all night—little flakes of me, my impressions, my selections, are settling down on the image of her. The real shape wil be quite hidden in the end.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes—like the small flakes that come when it is going to snow all night...
Show More