Darkness lives in the earth
Recently, on mountain hike, A. observed that the colors of the Alpine flowers along the path are still aglow for a little bit after twilight has fallen, as if the flowers had stored the light and now how to release it, she tells me.
Darkness lives in the earth. It rises up out of it and returns to it like a strong breath, I read in Andrzej S tasiuk’s Dukla.
The older I get, the more intense is my interest in the various ways and forms in which light appears in nature. I am amazed, I learn from that, and I am aware that it is the light of the sun that
Illuminates the buildings I envision. I hold spaces, materials, textures, colors, surfaces and shapes up to the light of the sun; I capture this light, reflect it, filter it, screen it off; I thin it out to create a luster in the right spot. Light as an agent, I’m familiar with it. But when I really start thinking about it, I understand hardly anything.