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Thresholds

By  Gill Hobson 2012
Between reality and imagination, waking and dream, My body enveloped by architecture, warmed by late afternoon light. Rest, beckoning sleep, A quiet room, a trusted place where dreams can happen, will happen. Glimpsed images re-assembled, passing time told through light, Soft, soft focus. Reverie. Here, at the threshold, worlds collide.

Gillian Hobson

Gillian Hobson

Gillian Hobson

Gillian Hobson

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