Stories true, but not lies…Tumblr (3.0; @thehonestybox)http://thehonestybox.tumblr.com/<p>I move to stand in front of the next photo, black and white against the dark red walls of the gallery. No bigger than than a letter, the print is of a nude woman&#8230; Standing in darkness, her body is under the linear shadow of a blind; light striping across her naked form.</p> <p>That night last summer, I lay on my side on the damp, white sheets as he traced his fingers across my side and my hip. The light from the streetlight came in through my own open window, through the wooden blind spilling across the bed. The same shadow lines lay across the topography of my body, shifting with every movement and highlighting every contour&#8230; </p> <p>Gazing at the moving lines, he began to talk excitedly, fascinated by the effect. How someone should produce a garment with the same effect. How mesmerising&#8230; Stillness broken by his eager talk. I reminded him, laughing, that I own a similar piece of clothing&#8230; but for him it could not possibly be the same. Nothing short of wonderful could reproduce the way skin and form appeared under that window. And his hands continued to follow the shadows.</p> <p>Turning on my back, we both watched the lines&#8230; breathing with me. Rising and falling across my ribs.</p> <p>In the gallery, I smiled to myself and moved on. I went back before leaving, to look at the print&#8230; Life imitating art.</p> <p><img src="http://media.tumblr.com/6bc1c756c3634a6eb36089545de37f3b/tumblr_inline_mn9rs39KmK1rlprg0.jpg"/></p>http://thehonestybox.tumblr.com/post/51172189962http://thehonestybox.tumblr.com/post/51172189962Thu, 23 May 2013 17:02:55 -0400honestylifeartphotographyshadowslate night