MARTER Mélanie photography
A summer's evening, after a long walk to the top of the mountains, "..to get closer to the beauty of paradise" he said, peering out towards the edge into the endless horizon. They sat at the top of the world, silent in thought, savoring the peaceful moment that lay before them. In front of the burnt sky, he turned to her, adoring the delicate shape of her nose; he looked at her with intensity and murmured, "if one day the sky takes me away from you, I will become wind that caresses your face."
The abandoned piano strings dont vibrates anymore. No more sonata, prelude or ballad. Half-submerged in the sand monster. Tagged as a public wall. Yet he had his moment of glory. Maybe in a personal living to make dream a Jane, in a hotel to charm night customers at the bar, or to a masterful virtuoso piano concerto was be performed for a crowd sitting in red chairs.
I believed that the excitement of the world, the sufferings, the experience would take me out of my chrysalis. Finally, I dont know what to do with myself. The metamorphosis has to come. In my cocoon trick-dream, I deposit all my desires. In this closed space, I turn in circle, and this whirlwind is going to stop one day, on one point...
A summer's evening, after a long walk to the top of the mountains, "..to get closer to the beauty of paradise" he said, peering out towards the edge into the endless horizon. They sat at the top of the world, silent in thought, savoring the peaceful moment that lay before them. In front of the burnt sky, he turned to her, adoring the delicate shape of her nose; he looked at her with intensity and murmured, "if one day the sky takes me away from you, I will become wind that caresses your face."