Hands, feet and stripes

The tone, the grey, a memory of fog, of things lost, of things unretrievable. The scene is presented, pregnant with whatever one wants to project. Compositionally the ewer catches ones eye but there's something else about this. If I draw a triangular line through lip of ewer to wrist of woman to eye of woman and back again I am caught in the space of representation using words like humility, piety and submission. I spend too long with ritual meaning of feet washing, women and children. Thus far in this emotional commandment I have been given: love one another as I have loved you.