BA15D
During the height of the late lock down, I searched the studio for something that spoke to me.
A bright light caught my eye. It was a beam of sunlight, through the window, striking a glass bulb, that had been placed on the old shelf.
It had probably been sitting there for a few years, just waiting to be noticed. Pulled from active duty after lighting up my sets for years (?), it had finally suffered a catastrophic failure.
It probably made an incredibly bright light before popping with a sizzle.
And, there it was, sitting there among the dusty books, just waiting for the final shuffle to the bin.
The tales it could tell, if it could talk, of the people, and things, it had rained its light upon.
Or, perhaps, one more time to the set?
©2020
During the height of the late lock down, I searched the studio for something that spoke to me.
A bright light caught my eye. It was a beam of sunlight, through the window, striking a glass bulb, that had been placed on the old shelf.
It had probably been sitting there for a few years, just waiting to be noticed. Pulled from active duty after lighting up my sets for years (?), it had finally suffered a catastrophic failure.
It probably made an incredibly bright light before popping with a sizzle.
And, there it was, sitting there among the dusty books, just waiting for the final shuffle to the bin.
The tales it could tell, if it could talk, of the people, and things, it had rained its light upon.
Or, perhaps, one more time to the set?
©2020
During the height of the late lock down, I searched the studio for something that spoke to me.
A bright light caught my eye. It was a beam of sunlight, through the window, striking a glass bulb, that had been placed on the old shelf.
It had probably been sitting there for a few years, just waiting to be noticed. Pulled from active duty after lighting up my sets for years (?), it had finally suffered a catastrophic failure.
It probably made an incredibly bright light before popping with a sizzle.
And, there it was, sitting there among the dusty books, just waiting for the final shuffle to the bin.
The tales it could tell, if it could talk, of the people, and things, it had rained its light upon.
Or, perhaps, one more time to the set?
©2020
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Archival pigment printed on museum quality MOAB Entrada Rag 300.
100% cotton paper.
Matte Surface
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All paper prints are covered with acid free, neutral pH glassine paper.
Include signature and title on front.
Prints are carefully covered, rolled and placed in the shipping tube.
Does not include frame or matte. -
Orders are sent within 3-5 business days and should arrive within 1-4 days in the US.
All domestic orders are insured and trackable.
International orders are insured and optionally trackable.
No returns as all prints are custom made.
An email containing tracking information will be sent once the order ships.
