Hanabi
“Hanabi: flowers of fire. I didn’t paint the explosion, only what falls from it: orange sparks drifting slowly down through the smoke. The whole crowd is …
€800 — Popsan
“Hanabi: flowers of fire. I didn’t paint the explosion, only what falls from it: orange sparks drifting slowly down through the smoke. The whole crowd is there around her, but I left it in shadow, faceless silhouettes looking elsewhere. She alone looks up. The light falls on her forehead, on her parted lips, on the line of her throat, and her hand clutches the collar of her yukata to her chest, the way you hold your breath. Look lower down: a round fan is tucked into her red obi, scattered with little pink flowers. She has forgotten it there. In her hair, a pale flower catches a little of the same light as the sparks. I always wonder what we are really watching during a firework display: th…
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