Frances
Perry knows appearances are false. The history of photography is a history of
falsity. One day that will be a platitude. These thousand-image devices prove
incidental, a gallery of deceit. Sufficient unto the day are the images
thereof, but in the morning a new song will arise. Best be ready for its
challenges, put away all appearances and attempts at appearances. Psalms repeat
lines for effect: a new city rises from the rich earth. Frances Perry has
births to attend to, visitations, counsels, and lectionary. It’s a kind of
exile, the beautiful colonies, burning in January, frozen in July.
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