Visual storytelling

This exhibition announcement with its photograph by Cory Sprenkle has been tacked up on the bulletin board in my writing space for a while now. I love the colors; its mysterious, poetic sensibility; its nod to narrative, and the melancholy story it tempts.

I love the photograph so much, in fact, that I've been holding onto the postcard since 2000, when the exhibit "Doomsday: Revelations" took place at the Salon des Amis Gallery in Malvern, Pa. and this was one of the artworks included. I didn't go to the exhibit, by the way. It arrived at my parents' house shortly before my mother died very suddenly from a brain aneurysm, and was addressed to her. I don't know if I found it in the couple of weeks I spent with my dad after her death, or whether I found it eight months later, when I moved down to Pennsylvania permanently — after it became clear to me that my father was isolating himself, figuratively burying himself in a house full of the memories they shared.

Since I found it, I've tried googling Sprenkle, without much success. The images that pop up don't remotely key to what I imagine would be other works by this artist, and most of the web links have led me to dead-ends.

And, perhaps that's only fair. Some mysteries aren't meant to be unravelled.