Wednesday, June 07, 2006
at the end, not of a rope, but a shoe lace
aglet. aglet.
sorry, and this'll be the last of the lot. but wanted to get off my preoccupation wit da shoes by giving at least a wee bit of context. which actually takes the shape of a look through another's preoccupation, lookin at a source.
derrida, from the truth in painting:
"here they are. i'll begin. what of shoes?"
in the case of derrida, the reflection is on van gogh.
shoes are a friggin mystery, though. aren't they? what of shoes?
know i always held that the first character indicator of a stranger can be found by lookin at the gear they, consciously or not, decides ta wrap around their toes. left alone, silent, shoes speak their own logic.
so i 'll try and maintain at least a passing distance from introducing anything more about shoes here. promise.
do notice that van gogh is painting a pair of hiking shoes with nails through the soles in the first image.
humble indeed.
sign me on. i'm goin up!
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