Damon Falke is an American writer living in northern Norway. His work includes, among others, By Way of Passing, Now at the Uncertain Hour, and the films, Climbing Eros, Koppmoll and There Is No Separation. He is a frequent contributor to arts journal JUKE.
*Part of an ongoing series of essays connected to the upcoming film Love, Eleanor.
She resisted touching the fabrics that hung outside the shops. Scarves, towels, thin blankets that brightened the walls of merchant streets. Most of the fabrics were cotton, though some of the scarves were made of synthetic materials. One or two pieces she thought were made of silk. Her favorite colors were pale blues and whites and dark burgundies that bordered on purple. Natural materials were her favorite. The cottons, the silks reflected light differently. The synthetics reflected only their colors. They did not vary under the sunlight or wind. Natural fabrics revealed something more of their origins in sunlight. They displayed their colors, yes, but they also showed their weaves, the slight frays that reflected light. There were differences between those pieces that had been in the sun longer than those pieces that had been recently displayed.
