catch a falling star (by Ana Luísa Pinto [Luminous Photography])
[Every week, there will be a letter, going through the order of the alphabet. Every Monday, I’ll open the Chambers Compact Dictionary and I’ll randomly pick a page of the said letter. Out of that page, I’ll randomly pick a word. And every Friday, there will be a picture based on that word.
Welcome to the Alphabet Tales. ]
Star, stär, n. Any of the heavily bodies, especially those visible at night whose places in the firmament are relatively fixed.
she has it in a jar, guards it with a cloth to keep coveting eyes from stealing its light. It’s been a while, years perhaps, but she hasn’t changed, she hasn’t aged one day. the star maintains her youth and gives her strength, all the while hearing, absorbing, cataloguing every thought and prayer. it’s an entity, this creature of the light, and she knows it. they get lost in deep, soulful monologues and bouts of tender care, in which she cradles it like a child. this is indeed her child. this is her reason to be alive — the light she must keep going, the love she must nurture every day. and she’s happy. she caught it, and there go her rainy days.
It’s been so long since I posted! I’m so sorry, my friends. Life got completely insane — my family’s patisserie closed down for renovations and we all had to help out with the details, I had a couple of weddings that I absolutely needed to tend to and lots and lots to do. I had to put my Alphabet Tales on hold for a couple of weeks, so that I could dedicate myself to my commercial photography. (Also, if you’d like to get more constant updates that aren’t all fine art photography (mostly weddings, photoshoots and random shots) please like my page on facebook, since it’s the one I update more often, and several times a week. That way you don’t have to wait for me to randomly update this project.)
And sometimes there is darkness that seeps into her bones, crawls along the edges of her vision and cools the skin where it is most vulnerable. Sometimes it gets so tough that the pressure behind her eyelids and the clasp around her ribs threatens to suffocate her, crush her into the size of a postcard.
And then she remembers.
There is light.