Her pictures are all so relatively small today. There's something about zooming way in and just slowly absorbing as much information as you can. How much lowly background matter has just been overlooked, how much has never been mentioned, analyzed, written about? You could spend hours on just one photo. One relatively, presently tiny photo. Imagine the overload of visual and other sensory information if these pictures were taken with a more professional grade camera.
Anyway. This picture. I'm sure it has to have been said before, but what a serendipitously beautiful shot. The classic orange and blue color compliment, the perfect diagonal split of the wall, the texture contrast between the defined wall and the wild clouds, the perfectly aimed low angle with her looking up, her slightly left frame position but right facing actual position, her crossover into the cloudy dark void, the dark looming flag structure reaching into the heavens.
Has a picture ever so perfectly capture that time of early evening, that feeling you get...? It's like a dream you regret waking up from. I can't describe that feeling justly. It's one of those things that makes you think, just for a second, that maybe the world is more than just unromantic daily monotony. Maybe if we stay up late, and wish hard enough, the world can be as mysterious and romantic as we want. Nights of youth like that go by so cruelly quick.