And You Saw and Were Seen
“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes…” Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Traveling through a two-lane mountain road in northern Vietnam close to the Chinese border, we came upon a small village community center filled with an old tv and a pool table. Surrounding this space was a very tiny “kitchen” next to a bed and storage space. Without sharing language, the beautiful lady and I danced and communicated through photography. My focus was on her.
But when I looked at the images, I saw that “The America Way” (written backwards) was on her headscarf and the “Smile” was on her shirt.
As humans, wherever we go, we are connected.
And You Saw and Were Seen
Here: she expect without words, invites without waiting,
your hunger in a space that could be called nothing.
Barely encountered, yet traversed by one.
The nape of a neck, the soft light of a gaze turned in on itself.
In a space that could be called nothing, an invitation to your hunger,
the unnoticed delicacy of fingers between work.
The nape of a neck, the soft light of a gaze turned in on itself
the loyalty of shadow and small freedom of hair.
Pots glisten in the dark, nailed to slab, cued in function.
There is a cleaning of what dirties in this moment alone, a prayer.
A history of cracked plaster stands at attention, holds itself together.
There are no ghosts here but she of the present, appearing in every frame again, again,
rendered fully in the in-between of light.
Barely encountered, yet fully traversed by her own grace,
a history of cracked plaster stands at attention, holds itself to itself.
Here: expecting you without words, inviting you without waiting.
Poem by Crystal Salas