I could not prove the Years had feet

 

In Emily Dickinson's poetry, physical feet and metrical "feet" (the rhythmic units of a line) merge. She uses feet to explore physical movement, time passing, death, and the internal dance of her own creative mind without formal instruction.

I could not prove the Years had feet – Emily Dickinson

563

I could not prove the Years had feet—

Yet confident they run

Am I, from symptoms that are past

And Series that are done—

 

I find my feet have further Goals—

I smile upon the Aims

That felt so ample—Yesterday—

Today's—have vaster claims—

 

I do not doubt the self I was

Was competent to me—

But something awkward in the fit—

Proves that—outgrown—I see—

 

Since I was a child my mother would tell me that not only had I inherited her very nice legs but also her feet. Until now I can buy shoes that fit perfectly so I have no bunions.

Sometime in the beginning of this century a woman at the Exposure Gallery (a photographic gallery sadly gone) asked me if I had ever photographed feet. I quickly answered that I thought feet were ugly. With a smile she said, “That’s a challenge.” At the gallery I met a beautiful woman who was a jeweller. I wrote about her recently here.

Her Infinite Variety

After that first session we went to Lynn Canyon where I took portraits of her on the water, and yes, her feet.

Because all my negatives are nicely filed I could have re-scanned the negs and put those here. I decided to go to my darkroom roots so I scanned the prints in Fiedler’s files. The first one was badly overexposed (badly printed in fact) and when I corrected I loved all the interesting flaws that have appeared.