She kneels on a velvet ottoman, back to us, but her face is caught in a tilted mirror. The mirror doesn't lie; it negotiates. In her left hand, a pair of nail scissors. In her right, a single playing card—the Queen of Hearts, snipped cleanly at the corner.
— Roy Stuart, from his notebook, ‘The Architecture of Suggestion’
On the floor, a man's pinstripe trousers, still belted, arranged like a discarded second skin. He watches from a chair just outside the frame. You can see the smoke from his cigarette curling into the light.
This is not seduction. This is a treaty signed in silence. She has cut nothing of value except the queen's permission. The glimpse is hers to give, not yours to steal. Remember that."
(2003)
"The tenth glimpse is not through a keyhole, but through a tear in the wallpaper—a rent made not by accident, but by intention.
Medium: Archival pigment print / Film still Dimensions: 120 x 80 cm Edition: 3/7