« Souvenirs (Nadia) | Home
| “Will I Ever See You Again”…A poem dedicated to a dear friend of mine who i lost on march 4th 2005…(written by Fahd Khan) »
Wait. Listen. (Faisal)
In a metropolis, movement is defined as constantcy. I took a step back, one day, and noticed the image of a hand placed on a mirror the fingers of which were gently feeling its coldness. And in that mirror, or through it, appeared a shadow. Observing the shadow, a glimpse into the concept of infinity ad infinitum brushed by me. I tried to pen my revelation, attempting to interlace it with the image.

i love it. speaks to me on so many levels. reminds me of when I’m in lifts with 2 mirrors facing each other. and when you look into it, you see an infinite reflection of yourself. (i hope you know what i mean)
i usually associate mirrors with the concept of illusion. how an image of my reflection is so real, and yet it isn’t real in the sense or ‘reality’ as we know it. which begs the ageold philosophical question of ‘what is real?’
Posted 3 years, 3 months ago