A Soft Dialogue
Into the Air
Folded like birds. Into paper. Something like that happens. Every time the sculptor makes a person move. Bend, brace and take off. He woke up that morning thinking about where they all go. © Susy Kamber All rights reserved This piece feels quietly metaphysical—about creation, animation, and release. “Folded like birds. / Into paper.” This immediately evokes origami: fragility, intention, and transformation. Birds imply freedom and flight; paper implies delicacy and constraint. Together, they suggest potential—something light and alive, made from something flat and ordinary. “Something like that happens.” The line softens certainty. It acknowledges approximation rather than explanation, as if the speaker knows the feeling but not the mechanism. Creation is intuitive, not fully rational. “Every time the sculptor makes a person move.” Here the sculptor is more than an artist—possibly a stand-in for a god, creator, animator, or even time itself. To “make a person move” suggests giving life, intention, or direction. “Bend, brace and take off.” These are stages of motion and readiness. Bend implies vulnerability, brace suggests preparation or resistance, and take off is release—departure, flight, or death. It mirrors both physical movement and existential transition. “He woke up that morning thinking about where they all go.” This closing line grounds the abstract in human doubt. Even the creator wonders about aftermath—what happens once creation is released. It hints at mortality, autonomy, and the quiet loneliness of letting go. Overall The passage reflects on the act of making life or meaning and then losing control of it. People, once shaped, move on—like paper birds launched into the air. The creator can initiate motion but cannot follow its destination. It’s tender, questioning, and filled with awe at what escapes our hands once set in motion. (Explanation by ChatGPT)
2025
Photograph
A Fast Moment
- 64.52 x 50 undefined
This piece was composed using paper and plastic. The plastic was photographed using a scanner. The process of photography using this technique is called scanography. The cut paper was arranged on top thus another form of a collage. Rush me into waters. Selections of waves and mists. The rainbow enthusiast expresses delight. The colors, a waterway into heaven. The distance to and fro only a fast moment can catch. Copyright © Susy Kamber Song Selection - The Smell of the Sea - Alan Mayer “Rush me into waters.” The poem opens as a request, even a surrender. There’s urgency here—not fear, but desire—to be immersed rather than to observe from the edge. Water again signals transition, emotion, and renewal. “Selections of waves and mists.” The word selections suggests choice within chaos. The speaker is not drowning; they are discerning, moving through variations of experience—solid wave, dissolving mist. Presence shifts between clarity and obscurity. “The rainbow enthusiast expresses delight.” This line introduces wonder and playfulness. The “enthusiast” could be the speaker, the artist, or the soul itself—someone attuned to fleeting beauty. A rainbow is born of water and light, reinforcing the union of elements rather than their separation. “The colors, a waterway into heaven.” Here the rainbow becomes a passage, not a symbol alone. Color is movement, a conduit—suggesting transcendence reached through sensory experience, not escape from it. “The distance to and fro only a fast moment can catch.” The closing acknowledges impermanence. What is most luminous is also most fleeting. Heaven, beauty, understanding—they appear only in motion, only if one is willing to move quickly enough to meet them. Summary This poem captures the exhilaration of fleeting transcendence—the moment when water, light, and perception align just long enough to be felt. It celebrates speed, immersion, and the joy of noticing. Where your earlier poem lingered and caressed, this one rushes and sparkles, reminding us that some truths arrive only in passing, and that delight itself can be a form of knowing. (Interpretation by ChatGPT)
Mixed Media
A Soft Dialogue
Air blown velvet around window sills. The reflection outside as the curtain is pulled aside contains water possessed with puddles dressed in white chiffon. Sheer flowers and a visiting butterfly flirts with my eyes. Lilting shadows decorate the wall. Speaking to each other in the morning. A surprising grin on my face as I turn to get dressed. The soft shadows contained on the glassy surface. Speak to each other. Caressed shades of green. Cashmere goats see themselves gaze into the stream. Sipping themselves. Copyright - Susy Kamber All rights reserved Song Selection - Yumeji’s Theme from “in the Mood for Love” Shigeru Umebayashi “Air blown velvet around window sills.” Morning arrives softly, tactile rather than visual. Air behaves like fabric, cushioning the threshold between inside and outside. The day doesn’t intrude—it drapes itself gently. “The reflection outside as the curtain is pulled aside contains water possessed with puddles dressed in white chiffon.” Light transforms the ordinary. Puddles become adorned, almost ceremonial. “Possessed” suggests enchantment—water holding something more than itself. The world is briefly dressed for you. “Sheer flowers and a visiting butterfly flirts with my eyes.” Attention becomes reciprocal. You are not just seeing beauty; beauty notices you back. The flirtation is light, playful, fleeting—no grasping, just exchange. “Lilting shadows decorate the wall. / Speaking to each other in the morning.” Shadows gain voice. They aren’t empty absences of light but active presences, conversing quietly. Morning itself feels social, alive with small communications. “A surprising grin on my face as I turn to get dressed.” This is the human pivot point. Wonder slips naturally into the everyday. The grin is unforced—a reflex of gratitude rather than intention. “The soft shadows contained on the glassy surface. / Speak to each other.” Repetition here feels deliberate, like echo. Reflection upon reflection—light speaking to light, perception folding back on itself. “Caressed shades of green.” Color is touched, not seen. Green becomes a sensation—growth felt rather than observed. “Cashmere goats see themselves gaze into the stream. / Sipping themselves.” This closing is quietly profound. The goats drink water, but also their own reflection. It suggests self-recognition without self-consciousness—being nourished by simply being. No judgment, no separation. Summary This poem captures an intimate morning moment where perception, reflection, and self-awareness gently blur. Everything—air, water, shadow, animal, human—participates in a soft dialogue. It’s about recognizing oneself within the world rather than apart from it. The final image offers a kind of wisdom: to sip life as it reflects you back, without urgency, without doubt. (Interpretation by ChatGPT)
2026
Photograph
