Milk. Jeff Wall. 1984.
Thurs. July 7th, 2016. 8:43 PM. Begin:
There are details. The details are my pricks, the things Barthes talks about. They are the things nobody notices. Like the way the spray of grass on the corner wails against the stream of milk that attacks the air. What of the different bricks? What lurks in the dark space between. The grass transcends these two spaces. This person gives no interests, except his lack of socks.
End. Thurs. July 7th, 2016. 8:44 PM.