I have found most of my shadows now
but still not what my curse may be
and so I walk down golden halls
on some fair islands beyond the sea
A quiet queen with soft rolled dice
to touch the light of paradise
35mm photography by Andrew Valenti - poem by Leslie Schott - featured on Grunge and Art
35 mm photography by Andrew Valenti - featured on Grunge and Art
on provencal road
‘They ask her what she is doing here – trespassing into their vacant opulence.
At times, she feels more alien in her own town than the colorful flowers grown in far away countries that the landscapers use to line the wide driveways.
She grew up here. Walked through corridors with marble floors and hid behind secret attic doors. Pathways, manicured lawns, statues, doorbells, closets, and bedrooms –
there would always be some new space to conquer.
A patch of light where she could disappear –
between properties and beyond the unsteady grip of her youth.
And all these walls could not separate her from the invisible doors that kept opening.
She existed beyond questions and answers.
And though they would attempt to know her –
they would never find the door in her wall, or the sidewalk to the stairs that leads to her room.’
photography by Andrew Valenti - poem by Leslie Schott - featured on Grunge and Art