When Her Hair Dances in the Wind

in Photography Lovers15 days ago

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abstracted from depths beyond our grasp
the wind blows through her hair
drawing images and emotions
that I struggle to understand


An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write


Girl | Girl I | Girl II | Girl III | Girl IV | Girl V | Girl VI | Girl VII | Girl VIII | Girl IX | Girl X | Girl XI | Girl XII | Girl XIII | Girl XIV | Girl XV | Girl XVI | Girl XVII | Girl XVIII | Girl XIX | Girl XX | Girl XXI | Girl XXII | Girl XXIII | Girl XXIV | Girl XXV | Girl XXVI | Girl XXVII | Girl XXVIII | Girl XXIX | Girl XXX | Girl XXXI | Girl XXXII | Girl XXXIII | Girl XXXIV | Girl XXXV | Girl XXXVI | Girl XXXVII | Girl XXXVIII | Girl XXXIX | Girl XL | Girl XLI | Girl XLII | Girl XLIII | Girl XLIV | Girl XLV | Girl XLVI | Girl XLVII | Girl XLVIII | Girl XLIV | Girl XLV | Girl XLVI | Girl XLVII | Girl XLVIII | Girl XLIV | Girl XLV | Girl XLVI


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She stood at the edge of the world, looking over the ocean that contained her restless soul. I looked at her, as she envisioned herself swimming with the dolphins, her wild soul running across fields with wild horses, swimming with these wild animals.

I saw her eyes burning with that passion, that passion to run free with the horses, flying across and between the mountains like eagles, with eagles...

I captured the girl standing, looking, across the ocean where her soul rested, and I tried to dance with the wind in her hair, I tried to decipher what it all meant, as meanings somehow left my mind.

Join me as I show you the photographs of this event, of this moment, when I captured her looking over the bay, where I am sure her soul was.


When Her Hair Dances in the Wind


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She climbed into the car and looked at the world being enveloped into her hair. She danced with the wind, as her hair started telling the stories of the old world. We could not fully realise what was being told, but we could paint abstract images that tried to capture the moment.


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Postscriptum, or A Show in Her Hair

She looked at the waters for a last time before she walked away from her thoughts. She looked at me, almost like she recognised me, and this was a lie I wanted to believe in, but I knew it was not possible. For she was still the girl I could never write, the girl that escaped my pen, the words that I wanted to use to describe her...

Alas, I will continue to try.

All of the musings and writings are my own, albeit inspired by the girl and her hair. The photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and 50mm Nikkor lens.

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Manually curated by ewkaw from the @qurator Team. Keep up the good work!

 15 days ago  

Thank you so much @ewkaw, I really appreciate it!

Great post

 6 days ago  

Thanks!

I really like the colors in the photo, a spring mood immediately appeared

 6 days ago  

Thank you so much, my friend!