“…while time folds its fan shut
and behind its images there’s nothing,
the moment plunges into itself
and floats surrounded by death,
threatened by night’s lugubrious yawn,
threatened by death that is masked and alive,
the moment plunges into itself,
into itself like a closing fist,
like a fruit that ripens toward its center

and drinks from itself, spilling over,
the moment, translucent, seals itself off
and ripens inward, sends out roots,
grows within me, taking me over,
its feverish leafing drives me out,
my thoughts are nothing more than its birds,
its mercury runs through my veins, tree
of the mind, fruit that tastes of time,

oh life to live, life already lived,
time that comes back in a swell of sea,
time that recedes without turning its head,
the past is not past, it is still passing by,
flowing silently into the next vanishing moment…”

SunStone – Octavio Paz

This is a our both “crossed diaries” of daily life.
We take a photo a day with Hipstamatic application on our iphones and post it here.

Ali Moini & Pershang Shafigh

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