Ink

“The pages
are
still
blank,
but
there is
a miraculous
feeling
of
the words
being
there,
written in
invisible
ink
and
clamoring
to become
visible”
― (Vladimir Nabokov)

 

Probably
not
my
best
shot.

The light
was bad
and
came out
a bit
blur.

But:
I love
it!

Not
because
it is
decay,
but
because
of the
filigree
ink like
traces
that
did appear
under
the decayed
paint.

It is
almost
a world
on
its own
that
reminds me
of some
old
Chinese
paintings
you
can see
in books.

Do
not ask
me if
it is
abstract.

For me
it is.

(Day 140/365) Nr.2