Facades of brick and natural stone, rendered and painted, lie still in deep shadow. Shutters, blinds and shades are drawn. The light falls in dazzling narrow strips, as if through a paling, onto the street running north to south, where the walls are punctuated by entrances and doorways.
Hidden in this urban web, there is hustle and bustle amid the lush greenery. Wideness opens up. Bees buzz, frogs croak beneath the water lilies’ dense leafage and lizards scurry across the raised beds’ stone slabs, which are gradually becoming hotter. A gentle morning breeze timidly wafts below the upturned edge of the fabric.1
A handful of brown-beige speckled hens peck at the earth in the shade between leaning hazel rods, looking for fallen fruit. The rods will serve to support beans and cucumbers next spring. The colourful rooster crows. Cabbage white butterflies buzz around the delicate, withering anemones, whose fluffy white seed heads will disperse to ever-new parts of the garden in autumn.
The sun is at its zenith. A sense of lethargy takes hold. Tiny particles dance in the light. We float between the fragrance of countless ornamental plants and herbs: mint, basil, ground elder and chinese sweet wormwood. White sage scent rises, dried – as spiritual incense – in the coolness of the house. Solid brickwork, clearly delineated from the midsummer idyll that is fading away.
*Duk·tus /Dúktus/ Substantiv, maskulin [der]
In art history, a technique in which figures or objects are deliberately omitted from a painted background. In linguistics, the characteristics of a person’s individual language, handwriting or painting or drawing style. Here, ‘Duk·tus’ in the sense of making space. Calm and tranquility. People and their environment in harmony. Natural materials, recycling and transformation as an expression of personal individuality.
Facades of brick and natural stone, rendered and painted, lie still in deep shadow. Shutters, blinds and shades are drawn. The light falls in dazzling narrow strips, as if through a paling, onto the street running north to south, where the walls are punctuated by entrances and doorways.
Hidden in this urban web, there is hustle and bustle amid the lush greenery. Wideness opens up. Bees buzz, frogs croak beneath the water lilies’ dense leafage and lizards scurry across the raised beds’ stone slabs, which are gradually becoming hotter. A gentle morning breeze timidly wafts below the upturned edge of the fabric.1
A handful of brown-beige speckled hens peck at the earth in the shade between leaning hazel rods, looking for fallen fruit. The rods will serve to support beans and cucumbers next spring. The colourful rooster crows. Cabbage white butterflies buzz around the delicate, withering anemones, whose fluffy white seed heads will disperse to ever-new parts of the garden in autumn.
The sun is at its zenith. A sense of lethargy takes hold. Tiny particles dance in the light. We float between the fragrance of countless ornamental plants and herbs: mint, basil, ground elder and chinese sweet wormwood. White sage scent rises, dried – as spiritual incense – in the coolness of the house. Solid brickwork, clearly delineated from the midsummer idyll that is fading away.
*Duk·tus /Dúktus/ Substantiv, maskulin [der]
In art history, a technique in which figures or objects are deliberately omitted from a painted background. In linguistics, the characteristics of a person’s individual language, handwriting or painting or drawing style. Here, ‘Duk·tus’ in the sense of making space. Calm and tranquility. People and their environment in harmony. Natural materials, recycling and transformation as an expression of personal individuality.
