unless a seed will fall to the ground and die no tomb can be a womb
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Garden tales
I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden. — Ruth Stout It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. — Charles Dickens In the…
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the dryness and the rain
after completing messes of men, the first part of my photography project inspired by mewithoutYou’s brother, sister, cranking the second part out was surprisingly easy. as part of this shoot i learned about betta fish and discovered just how many things cockle burrs can latch onto. [and how cold 40-degree weather can be — thanks…
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underneath
last september marked five years since my brain surgery. if it weren’t for the scar beneath my hair and the titanium plate in my skull, by now i might think it was all just another a strange dream. “scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.” ― cormac mccarthy, all…
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sunday sweaters
once upon a time on a late spring sunday afternoon (most likely after a thrilling nap), i found myself … bored? inspired? whimsical? i don’t know. but i decided to lean on the windowsill and pose for the camera … this was back in 2011 before the word “selfie” was ubiquitous. it was also before…
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winter afternoons
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes – Heavenly Hurt, it gives us – We can find no scar, But internal difference – Where the Meanings, are – None may teach it – Any – ‘Tis the seal Despair – An imperial affliction Sent us…
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messes of men
i’ve talked before about my love for mewithoutYou’s album brother, sister, and my desire to “illustrate” it, so to speak, through photography and other media. a desire four or five years in the making finally got off the ground last march when i did two shoots based on “messes of men,” the first song on…
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here
i am trying to write this poem for You as once more we prepare to mark Your birth but this year the words are slow to come so often on this trip around the sun my pendulum has swung from rage to ecstasy and back again — i forget how i feel in between until…
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the view from today | autumn dusk
“october was a beautiful month at green gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in the aftermaths.…
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the spy who stayed out in the cold
the following photos illustrate the story of ingrid … but what precisely that story is remains for you to discover. innocence abroad and the gogglette bring you … the spy who stayed out in the cold.
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