Ahndraya Parlato and Gregory Halpern, from East of the Sun, West of the Moon:
"These photographs were made on the Solstices and Equinoxes of 2012 and 2013. They were made wherever we happened to be—our home, travelling, or wherever we found ourselves on those four days of the year.
While photographing, we thought loosely about time, about what time looks like to each of us—time of day, time of year, time in the sense of a lifespan. Not surprisingly, certain themes recurred—birth and death, transition and renewal, lightness and darkness.
The title is borrowed from a Norwegian folk tale. We liked the idea of trying to rely on two continually shifting landmarks as navigational guides, how disorienting that idea is, and how it creates an elusive or impossible place.”
A postcard from the Bakken, North Dakota.
"In the tense silence the continual buzzing of the horseflies was the only audible sound, that and the constant rain beating down in the distance, and, uniting the two, the ever more frequent scritch-scratch of the bent acacia trees outside, and the strange nightshift work of the bugs in the table legs and in various parts of the counter whose irregular pulse measured out the small parcels of time, apportioning the narrow space into which a word, a sentence or a movement might perfectly fit. The entire end-of-October night was beating with a single pulse, its own strange rhythm sounding through trees and rain and mud in a manner beyond words or vision: a vision present in the low light, in the slow passage of darkness, in the blurred shadows, in the working of tired muscles; in the silence, in its human subjects, in the undulating surface of the metaled road; in the hair moving to a different beat than do the dissolving fibers of the body; growth and decay on their divergent paths; all these thousands of echoing rhythms, this confusing clatter of night noises, all parts of an apparently common stream, that is the attempt to forget despair; though behind things other things appear as if by mischief, and once beyond the power of the eye they don’t hang together. So with the door left open as if forever, with the lock that will never open. There is a chasm, a crevice."
- László Krasznahorkai, Satantango