Took pictures of wedding dresses on flea market window. They were anonymous without the woman who had worn them. There is something peculiar about white wedding dresses that is a theatrical play. It is as if it is a reminder of a tradition that is gone and buried but kept alive for the sake of promised princess days for all women who wish to be princesses for one day. Somehow very strange since there were many of those dresses hanging in the window with more or less lace and padding of some sort, layers hanging like ghosts, curtains, mystery bodies of dreams and fantasies in plain cubic environment of block elements with little vegetation growing from cracks of asphalt. Poetic in non poetic.
When every day is meaningful how should we think about time and aging as we are bound to having limited time, limited energy and just being limited and jailed because of many reasons that have to do with age, body and time? Is meaningfulness connected to sense of time and decay which we feel when we age, when we are too old, too young. When is a normal age to do anything and feel something about age of one? And why those wedding dresses appear old? Must be the flea market effect.