Buzz Kuhns and Betsy Wexler

Buzz Kuhns

The Lock
By Betsy Wexler
Inspiration piece

The key slides in easily
Not a single second of resistance
Fits perfectly.
And then
I try to turn it
It’s so quiet, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear
all of the little pins fall into place.
It won’t turn.
I pull the key out
The slide it back in
I don’t want to believe it
I want so much to open this door
So I turn it just a little bit harder
As if it needs to be convinced. Romanced, perhaps.
I let out a heavy sigh of frustration.
I try harder, putting some elbow grease into it
And suddenly
Without warning
The top of the key that I’m squeezing between my fingers
Trying so hard to turn
Breaks off from the part that is in the lock.
Oh NO.
I stand in the hallway with half a key in my hand.
It’s hopeless, I think. Now I’ll never get in.
Tears start to well up in my eyes
And then
Without thinking
As if divinely guided
I reach out to the doorknob
And turn.
The door opens.
It was unlocked all the time.


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  1. Posted June 27, 2012 at 7:54 pm | #


  2. Posted June 27, 2012 at 8:42 pm | #

    This photo may seem to have absolutely nothing to do with the inspiration piece, but for me it was an uncanny metaphor. I had an image in my head of the photo I wanted to make to go with the piece, but everything seemed to conspire against my succeeding; I couldn’t find the setting I wanted, and then it rained for days, foiling any attempt, and I was swamped with work, and time was running out. And then, on one of my jobs, there was this bed of lily leaves, in the rain, gorgeous, just waiting for me to make a photograph… the door had been unlocked all the time.