Over the Moon


You may recall, how, a few posts ago I boldly stated that I hadn’t bought a magazine in positively ages. Well. That changed. Because I fell in love with the premiere issue of Glass Magazine. The whole thing had my heart thumping an exuberant yes (seriously. It was like a crush, I swear). And I had to have it. So I scooped up the British magazine and carried it home with me, purchased with a random puny commission check from my last job. (I totally accepted that blow with grace).

Anyway, it’s the photograph above by Sarah Moon that very well may’ve sold me (which says a lot because there are lots of amazing words and interviews and even ballerinas and Grace Kelly in there). In the magazine it’s huge. It smacks you (or at least me) in the face like the gust of wind it looks as though that little girl is holding her head up to with reverence. Standing on a somewhat dilapidated city street, with a backdrop of the forest and a smattering of leaves and dirt sprinkled at her feet it’s as though she closing her eyes trying to smell the fresh air, feel the wind sprouted from the rustling leaves of trees, defiantly willing herself to be there. Like Dorothy and her ruby slippers clanking her heels together and willing herself home. But maybe all she has is a backdrop. She doesn’t necessarily get there. Maybe imagination is okay, though. Because it can take you absolutely anywhere. But, you know, this picture of a girl almost makes me think, too, of that moment when you’re a kid and you take your last grasps of your favorite unrealities and hold onto them for dear life. For just another moment. Defiantly. Here, it’s perfectly captured. So that its never given up. You can look at that picture and always feel that moment of that’s a strange mixture of peace and defiance.

“When I photograph, it is just a reaction. I need to be there a bit more.” -Sarah Moon (Glass Magazine)

Naturally, there were other pictures of hers in the magazine itself, and I scoured the web for some for you as well. And, what I found interesting, is a commonality between many of them (besides stunning color use). See if you can see what I mean:

Are these pretty ladies shy?

Are they embarrassed?

Maybe, they’re the little girl grown up. Hiding from realities. Contently daydreaming away.

Maybe it’s like one of those situations when you stick out and people are looking at you (because you look oh so fabulous?), and at first you feel amazing, you feel like a rockstar. But then they just keep looking.

And you start to feel on display. You start to wonder if maybe they’re looking at you because you’ve got something stuck in your teeth. Or, you’re trailing toilet paper on your shoes. Or you’ve spilt something all over yourself and haven’t realized it yet.

Tired of the spotlight. Tired of being looked at. Maybe you just want to go back to make-believe. It’s easier when you’re in your pretty dress and your eyes are closed, when you’re not really looking. Because you can be anywhere. You don’t even have to (pretend to) be a grown up.

But eyes open isn’t so bad either, really. Sometimes reality is better than make believe.

I take pictures even if I don’t have a camera. I love many, many, many things. I love music. I love what I do. I live! Hobbies? I mean I am interested by many things so I can’t really say. I mean it is living. It’s having friends. It’s having love. I do not have a specific hobby. It’s difficult to distinguish one thing from another. It’s true that I take pictures but sometimes I take them without taking them. I see something and think ‘that’s a picture’. It’s a way of looking a bit more. -Sarah Moon (Glass Magazine)

(Look a bit more)((while imaging, too!))((what do you think their stories are?)))

Bookmark and Share add to Technorati Favorites


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s