GROUND
KARIANNE BUENO
#13
Text by Karianne Bueno
Me, deer. She follows the stream. It is still summer, but the hint of fall is already in the air. The only sounds: the murmur of the cool clear water, silvery leaves in the breeze. Her footsteps on the grass. A bird. The rustling of some small animal between the brush. She walks, and with every step the real world seems further away. When she turns around to look it has already disappeared into the grey afar. At the place where the stream meets the river she sees them. They look back at her: curious, suspicious. They have been waiting for her. I come with you, she says. And surrenders.
The beauty and the infinity of their habitat delight her. It is like nothing she has witnessed before. The ashen shores with sky and sea alike, the lush woods dripping with rain and moss. They are so vast – they could make her disappear. Snow capped mountains release endless prairies, tumbleweed. Red soil, pink hills made of clay. Lakes as deep and dark as oceans, with rocks strangely shaped as if they are but human inventions. And everywhere there is a strange promise in the air, as if Alice’s Wonderland might come to life.
I have lost the tracks. The nights are so dark I cannot see the familiar outlines of the trees, or even my own hands. Instead, I see only white dots in the blackness. I hear the dripping of rain on the forest floor, wind rushes through the leaves above me. The rustling of some small animal below. Coyotes. Then silence again. And I know that in the morning, I will find that the land that lies ahead of me is empty, terrifying, too abandoned to find comfort in. I shiver.
GROUNDMAGAZINE # 13 2011
Special thanks to: Sarah Carlier Nina Poppe Sarah jane Jaeggi-Woodhouse Peter kops Amsterdams Centrum Fotografie Chantal van Genderen Bob van den Berg Petra Noordkamp Dorine van Meel
Photography: Karianne Bueno Text: Karianne Bueno Edit: Mieke Woestenburg & Karianne Bueno Groundmagazine Editor in chief: Mieke Woestenburg