thephotosocietyのインスタグラム(thephotosociety) - 10月16日 10時50分

Photo: @momatiukeastcott/@thephotosociety | the persistence of memory |
There is a mountain lake high in the Rockies where aspen trees spill their reflections on the water, and if the October breeze jumps over the surrounding peaks the reflections would dance until your heart spins. "Got any good snaps?" asks a trout fisherman I meet on a narrow trail. "No," I tell him. All day I have been trying to find the moment when... how did he say it? a good snap could happen. But magic has its own agenda and tells me nothing.
I walk among tall aspen trees, stare up their golden crowns and touch the smooth bark. Still -- nothing. Instead, I see every obstacle: the dead black twigs, the cloud invading the clear blue of the sky, and the harsh light. I am coughing: a respiratory bug sits in my lungs like a dark bird straight from hell.
Hours trickle by and I think I've had it. No luck. End this fruitless day. Wave my white flag and surrender. Then I round a corner of the lake and see pale reflections of aspen trunks broken by the evening breeze, dancing. They expand like balloons, shrink into fine lines, bend and twist. The golden hues of their leaves are dancing, too. And I suddenly think about Salvador Dali's painting "Swans Reflecting Elephants" with its reflecting swans turning tree trunks into elephants and the Catalonian landscape going afire.

Elephants? Swans? Here in Colorado, on 10.000 feet? But the persistence of memory holds. I am now looking at the tips of my shoes and the elevator floor when the door folds open and Dali walks in with Gala, his wife and muse. There are now three of us in this small elevator of Gallery of Modern Art, at 2 Columbus Circle in New York City and the year is, I think, 1967. The painter and his wife are dressed in conservative dark clothes and my mini skirt suddenly feels too short. I look in Dali's eyes, dark and alert, and kill my urge to touch his upturned mustache. Then it all fades, and I am back at my mountain lake, with white aspen trunks dancing among small waves. ©Yva Momatiuk #Colorado #fall #aspen #reflections #Dali #momatiukeastcott # memory

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