Songs from the second floor

And so it is, faded and fragmented memories remain. Another story untold. All that’s left, all that remains, her standing in a window before him, vulnerable and true. Birds nesting in the roof above tangled legs, room filling with light and village sounds, seeping in, waking from slumber. Becoming aware, heat from her skin, reminding him of loss.

And so it is.


25 responses

  1. Bottlecaps & Broken Bits

    The mood and nostalgia of the photos and words work incredibly well together, really nice post!

    December 12, 2011 at 9:06 pm

    • Thanks man, what can I say, it was one of those evenings when memories came flooding back.

      December 13, 2011 at 6:12 pm

  2. James Brandon O'Shea

    Man, love those first two images – not that the others aren’t good, but that pair play off each other really well. I’d hang them on my wall.

    December 13, 2011 at 1:52 am

    • Cheers James, what a great compliment. Not sure I would hang them on my own wall though – the memories will drive me insane!

      December 13, 2011 at 6:16 pm

      • James Brandon O'Shea

        I hear ya.

        December 13, 2011 at 7:12 pm

  3. LOVE your pictures!!!

    December 13, 2011 at 2:00 am

    • Thanks so much man, really appreciate it!

      December 13, 2011 at 7:34 pm

  4. zootshooter

    Great selection of shot, I love the colour tone of them all, my personal favourite is the photo of the bathtub, quite mysterious.

    December 13, 2011 at 2:20 am

    • Thanks man, really glad you liked them as they mean quite a bit to me.

      December 13, 2011 at 6:18 pm

  5. Straordinarie
    ….just betiful

    December 13, 2011 at 8:34 am

  6. Between an unmade bed & the heat of a woman who just left I found sadness & memories. Memories of skin, perfume & something I still have no words for. Something she does to me. And I feel damn small under this wild & driven sky. I turn around, longing for the night. And when the darkness finally arrived & eveyrbody left the house I drop the neddle & listen to John Coltrane: A love supreme. A hundred little deaths.

    To me sadness comes as easy as to you, my friend. And I’m asking myself if this is something I’m torn in, if this sadness is something I need to take pictures & tell stories? It seems to follow me & I can’t escape. And so it semms that this sadness is like gas in my car without I could’t move.

    Man, this is achingly beautiful! This story of yours, that I know so well, is something felt not seen.

    All the best & safe travels, Fritsch.

    December 13, 2011 at 8:42 am

    • Yes, it’s like being home you know, and when she inevitably leaves she takes everything with her, you don’t only lose her presence, her smile, you lose everything that you needed. And all you have left, all that remains, are a few pitiful memories, a vague scent of her dissipating by the day, a song you used to listen to playing over and over in your head. What else can one do but make stories of what remains, to take pictures of how you need to remember what you lost, reminding you of what you search for, always a way home.

      Thank you for experiencing this sadness with me Fritsch, and I can hear in your words how much you know of this, I can hear how many stories there are driving you. Like you said, like fuel in your car…

      All the best my friend.

      December 13, 2011 at 6:32 pm

  7. Very beautiful set of strong, atmospheric and emotion-filled images CV. My particular favourites are the roof-tops which have their own special resonance with me. Something about sitting in an upper room gazing dreamily at roof-tops whilst pondering life, the world, people and everything.

    December 13, 2011 at 9:47 am

    • Yes, exactly, there’s nothing quite like sitting on a rooftop, letting the sounds, memories, and images wash over you…Thank you for the kind compliments.

      December 13, 2011 at 6:34 pm

  8. Really like the “second-floor- perspective. My favorite is the third for its 2-D quality and texture, Sally

    December 13, 2011 at 1:19 pm

    • Thank you Sally, and yes, I must say that I quite like that one as well, even if it is only for the vibrant colours in an otherwise very muted series of images.

      December 13, 2011 at 6:36 pm

  9. This feels really pensive and painfully nostalgic, I’m loving all the emotions in these photographs and the perspective.

    December 13, 2011 at 5:47 pm

    • Thank you, and yes, I suppose they are painfully nostalgic, created in that place you keep all those romanticized memories.

      December 13, 2011 at 6:10 pm

  10. Unique photos of a somewhat universal experience. The wistfulness and the memories; the backward look to another time; the places and sounds and feelings–they all come running together to meet you. Most of us can relate and so your photos and story touch us. Very insightful series that prompts us to experience our own “other” times again.

    December 16, 2011 at 11:33 pm

    • Thanks for the insightful and complimentary comment Phil, and I agree with what you said, the idea was indeed to share an universal experience, an experience we have all shared in some form or another, and for the viewer to be transported to his or her own place of memory. It’s a simple thing to try and do, but memories need air sometimes, so it feels valid, recreating such nostalgia.

      December 17, 2011 at 8:47 am

  11. My dear chap – wow!!! Looking at the pictures and reading the comments, even thick-skinned, non-people person me can see what’s going on here, and you have my >>>total sympathies. Been there, done that, and its a very dark place indeed. I can only urge you to keep hanging on in there, the passing of time may well help things and – although its totally a cliche – there may well be light at the end of the tunnel ->>> and I’m on my blog and at the end of my email >>> so keep in touch!

    Now, something not sad >>> taken on their own, ie irrespective of your sadness, this is a tremendous set of images. Many of them remind me of what I saw when I first encountered your images, back in May/June or so. The not quite true colours are wonderful, they really add to this series, an the subjects are great too. Picking a favourite – it has to be the one with the umbarella, which gets up and smacks me right in the eye – superb! But the others are all good too.

    BUT, add to this your words, both in the post and in the comments, and this is really excellent, heavy stuff – certainly the best image series + words you’ve done, that I’ve seen at least.

    I know that you are sad, and that gives me cause for concern – but I >>>also know that you’ve got a lot of talent and ability, and its important that you don’t lose sight of that. All is not lost, although it may feel that way at the moment. Take care. Adrian

    December 17, 2011 at 5:33 pm

    • This is such an amazing and welcome comment Adrian, I’m actually at a loss for words…Thank you ever so much my friend, you’re words of encouragement and support really means the world to me, because I know they come straight from the heart, and of that I have no doubt whatsoever.

      To be honest, I actually felt very self indulgent doing this series, but the combination of nostalgia, a bottle of red, and a cold winters day drove me to this set of images. And in hindsight I’m glad that I posted them, that I followed through with my view of photography. I mean, it’s a universal experience, right? We all have our sad (or happy) tale to tell, and why shouldn’t we share our combined experiences? And to me personally photography is all about sharing, about giving some of yourself through them, about interacting and exploring our differences, and ultimately, similar ways of experiencing the world.

      Sadness comes and goes, but at the end it’s part of what defines us, so to me it’s not necessarily a negative thing, it’s simply ‘as it is’. Thanks again for your kind words my friend, and know that I’m at the other end of that same mail if you need me.


      December 17, 2011 at 6:53 pm

      • Ha! wading through masses of emails, I’ve only just got to this, JP. I’m very glad to hear that my words have done you some good – yes, I write straight from the heart, to me there’s no point at all in doing otherwise >>> but you’re the one who has before now left me at a loss for words after your comments >>> so here is some of your own medecine!!! LOL!!!

        I definitely don’t think you feel self indulgent about the series. You are expressing your feelings, and that’s one of the things that art is all about – and make no mistake >>> me, you, and all those reading/subscribing to our and other photo blogs – we are ALL producing art, albeit it with the aid of a machine >>> but no matter how automated the machine, the pictures, the composition – they are the products of our minds.

        And, yes, absolutely, photography is very much a sharing thing, particularly on blogs – we are using our minds and cameras to express ourselves – and we are sharing the products with anyone in the world who wants to tune in – can’t share things much wider than that!

        Right, must get on with this mountain of emails – not sure I can subscribe to any more blogs, as the email traffic is vast!

        Take care, man! Adrian

        December 24, 2011 at 12:26 pm

  12. Rufus Mangrove


    December 24, 2011 at 12:51 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s