📷 / Winter insomnia / analogue

The mind would like to get out of here
Onto the snow. It would like to run
With a pack of shaggy animals, all teeth,

Under the moon, across the snow, leaving
No prints or spoor, nothing behind.
The mind is sick tonight.

It wishes Chekhov were here to minister
Something - three drops of valerian, a glass
Of rose water - anything, it wouldn't matter.

The mind can't sleep, can only lie awake and
Gorge, and listen to the snow gathering
For the final assault.

- Winter Insomnia (pg. 23)
Raymond Carver 





The photo was taken 5 years ago with my old russian Zenit 12xp and Ilford Ilpan 400iso 35mm film.
In the picture are my moms old ice skates.
Here is the original:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/the_sorrowful_wife/6100395639/in/dateposted-public/