Private Moon

Russian artist Leonid Tishkov can’t seem to go anywhere without a human-sized crescent moon by his side.

the artist can usually be found with his lunar travel mate in tow, lounging on rooftops or dangling off the edge of a boat in scenes that take us back to our favorite childhood books.

Tishkov’s most recent obsession — a love affair with an illuminated, man-made moon — tugs at the heartstrings of any romantic soul. He’s documented the entire experience in a photography project called “Private Moon,” inviting viewers to glimpse intimate moments of his strange adventures.

Carrying around the words of Li Bai along with his moon on his journey, he begins to wander:

Human can never pluck the moon,

But she always goes with our step.

Shines as a mirror over red palace,

And thru the green mist she glitters.

Some pictures from “Private Moon”:

Private Moon in Nanjing

Private Moon in Nanjing

Private Moon in Umbria

Private Moon in Umbria

Private Moon in Paris

Private Moon in Paris

Leonid Tishkov blog

Huffington Post

The Theory of Letting Go

Dear J,
I may be at a loss for words half the time, and the other half I might have too much to say, but I can almost always say this; I love you. I have felt fear and I have felt bravery and I have felt loss. I can look pictures of us and I can recall everything we did that day. I can listen to videos of you and I can tell what you felt. And I know that you didn’t think I was paying attention, but I knew how you looked when you thought something was unfair. And I knew the look in your eyes when you saw the light just right in a sunset and you knew that nothing could ever be recreated quite like that. I felt the same way about you.
Wherever you are, know that loving someone isn’t a matter of feeling something or not feeling something. It’s a matter of knowing what you’re feeling and when you need to let go.
I think that people know that letting go involves unfurling your fingers and watching something fall from a great height. It’s the act of following that objects downward motion that gets to us. That once it meets the ground or whatever surface it is deemed to hit, it’s gone. What was there is gone. And once you think about that you think of what could have been there. That one last touch, that one last feeling of bliss that comes with knowing that the moment you wake up the sun will be shining in rivulets through fingers that tangle in hair fresh off the pillow. It’s sad to know that nothing like that will happen again.
The sun won’t shine the same way. Instead it may simply fall. It won’t cascade, it won’t flow over the edges of noses or smiling lips. It’s the same way water may lose a stone from a riverbed and from there on after it doesn’t run quite the same way. But another stone, another pebble will fall in place because replacement happens.
I guess what I’m trying to say, is that letting go is letting someone else take a spot. In order for something else to happen you have to let your joints move out of their grip and unfold from their hold on something that wasn’t meant to be held by you anymore.
Sometimes you have to let them land somewhere new.
I only hope that it’s somewhere even more beautiful than before.
Claire

By: Claire Elizabeth

via: hellopoetry.com/poem/813966/the-theory-of-letting-go

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