(via hazelweatherfield)

I find this picture slightly disturbing for some reason.

Actually I know why.

At the beginning of last summer I went to Quebec with my French class (of 2), mother, and teacher. One art gallery we went to had beautiful, gigantic, shocking photographs of damage after natural disasters, and the aftermath of Hiroshima. In the same gallery there was a room devoted to a collection of old cribs. they were old, with the paint peeling, set up in endless rows that reminded us all of a grave yard. There was just something about the room, the stillness, the lighting, especially after we’d been viewing these photographs heavy with loss, desperation and damage. Frankly, under different display circumstances (this exhibit had also been shown out of doors on a grassy lawn, arranged more randomly) it wouldn’t have given the same feeling at all, but that’s art. Juxtaposition is powerful. So powerful the peeling white paint, and emptiness still reminds me, and I recoil a bit.