The shadows on these doors remind me of a photograph of a person. The photograph had created a longing to know the person, so much so as to make me bold. During the late autumn months, whenever I saw shadow play on a wall from light passing through leaves of a tree, my eyes would instantly move towards it, like at this moment.
In the original photograph, the leaves are almost traceable, individual and distinct in their uniqueness, their shapes as sultry as the person’s face. They form a dance in themselves, some becoming feathered wings like birds, some parachuting into different degrees of light and varying amounts of space. Some are haloed in light, surrounded and alone, forming a lovely membrane around a single leaf.
Then there stood the person a little off to the side of this dance. His back was to the wall and he was looking into the camera with slightly squinting eyes which were dramatized with further shadows from his dark eyebrows and ridge. The shadow of the leaves fell on his face creating highlights, falling on a cheekbone or sliding down a cheek and creating a subtle dimpled chin. On his forehead shadows mingled with two loose strands of hair that fell over one eye. The brightest bit of light fell on the left side of his nose, his face slightly tilted to the side to create a frontal side profile of his nose, so that your eyes moved from the middle of the face outward. The rest of the shadow leaves moved across his light blue buttoned-down collared shirt forming an interplay with the wall. Creating quite possibly, the most romantic, alluring portrait of a person I’ve ever seen.
I first saw you in a photograph, taken perhaps as part of another love story.