My Ancestors and Me:
Her song
And when you looked at it, you not only sensed it color and
fragrance, you also sensed its language.
No, language is not the right word.
Yes, like a sound--yet when you listened for it, it diminished
and was replaced by some memory of another tune . . . yes, anyway
it was music.
The story could only be expressed in music, or some other
ways that enfold time in an ardour of petals.
---- From "The Women Who Fell to Earth" a hypertext
story by Bill H. Ritchie, Jr.
Above: Winfred (left) and Jennie Davis
(right), my Great-Grandparents, digitally clipped from the family
collection and rejoined. Plus a self-portrait (center) from my
Dreamer series inserted in the middle, shaded by the pine
tree that grows in the Garden of Media always on my mind. "My
Ancestors and Me," courtesy of Living Prints® ©1995
Bill H. Ritchie, Jr. SN#OS9509171030
ritchie@seanet.com