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Introduction Text – Peter Sarge Butko

At first I wondered if these images spoke of deep seas or infinite skies; Afterwards, noticing upside-down clouds on some of them, I envisioned nebulous reflections on the surface of a lake, overcast oceans being somehow different. After a while, I imagined I saw, very close, the bathwater where a child wallowed, and, later, the naïf rendering of a traditionalist Slovak minstrels’ verses. Then I understood. It was the dress of a young woman strolling barefooted over the burning cobblestones of a searing Prague summer day, all so that she could soon reach Lisbons’ Graca neighborhood – where the pavement was even hotter. Suddenly I discovered a space that was infinite and open. Immersing myself in it, I savored its’ generous blue expanse, and could not sate myself: In this azure something constantly hid, troubled, invaded, imposed itself – and gave it sparkle. I basked in it, and long after reassured myself of its’ presence. All at once I was myself again, looking (through a glass of green wine from the Graca café where I sat) at the festive lanterns being lit: She sat underneath them, and her fragrance lasted until she disappeared. I will long remember her dress.

Introduction Text – Peter Sarge Butko