Sometimes when I walk with the sun against my back with my shadow cast out in front of me, my winter coat and scarf adding to its shape. I catch myself falling into a trance as I am mesmerised by the way the shadow moves. The wind enters in between the fibres and lifts the cloth into a dance only the wind knows. I wish I could capture that dance.
Tonight my partner got home, Mister Rob, and he put his work shirts onto wash. The cycle finished and he promptly hung them up to dry. One shirt he decides to wear the following day and he hangs it outside in the English summer.
Stood by my back door I notice something going on in the corner of my eye. It's his shirt. It's doing that dance with the wind. As it dances with the wind its true fabric movement is restricted by the hanger that runs along its shoulders. It dances and I stand still mesmerised yet again. Although no shadow I can see the edge, that line, where the fabric is moved and bent by its dance partner.
I stop the trance and decided to film it. As the shirt dances along the washing line to its position in the chosen view.
Watch the wind and the shirt dance...
The wind adds to the way this shirt moves as it would when you wear yours and go about your day. Just like in my shadow, that will always be attached to me, the winds picks up the fabric and moves the garment in a dramatic dance depending on its mood.
We can't see the wind blow but we can see the winds ensemble. What it does when it joins its unexpected partner in that dance.
The dance got a little rough and Mister Rob had to pick his shirt up off the ground. All danced out yet the wind still blows egging it on.
xoxo
