Unspoken

This photo, as well as some of the others in its series, is rather personal, something I really don't usually do, so it almost feels wrong sharing it and letting others make it their own. So, in a potentially selfish manner, I have decided to provide a description for the image and its meaning, even though the image is more suited to being left undescribed and only accompanied by silence.

 

This photo, shot almost a year ago, is the first in a series of poems I have created revolving around blood. I refer to them as poems because my intention was to translate the elements of poetry (symbolism, metaphor, honesty, simplicity, detail, etc.) into photographs. I wanted photographs in which every detail and choice was made for a reason. Throughout the creation of this set of poems, the imagery of blood came to be a symbol of the stories that circulate through us and give us life.

So here's a bit of what this poem is about.

 

It's a poem about the words, and about silence

It's a poem about the angels we are

It's a poem about wanting to say a hundred things but not being able to form a single word.

It's a poem about all the words that get stuck in your throat.

It's a poem about the vulnerability that can no longer be hidden.

It's a poem about purity

It's a poem about finding a way to be heard

It's a poem about cold

It's a poem about the silence that words stain into stories

It's a poem about all the stories that go unspoken.

 

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