Knotted and scarred.
Rooted deeply but ever reaching.
Belonging, as a tree does.
Afterall
A connection to some sort of feverish source of substance
in keeping with the laws of attraction, of physics, of chemistry, of self.
A thought or dance to that which is fiction but balanced in the baseline of reality.
Who’s to say what, who, where was once real, if we didn’t see it, especially if we did?
Our strength of self- surely this knowledge that “I am” that “I know” doesn’t just reshuffle back into the fray. What kind of place do we hold, what kind of space can we have, after all?
a point of view
Perspective from the lens of a tourist in British Columbia.
a living
The heart needs another outlet,
but it can’t pour everything out to every thing.
Necessary is space for the business of this existence,
one wants a life, but needs a living.
a song
the music of this mist is such
that what can’t be seen,
can be felt and most certainly
will not be forgotten.
Quiet & Alive
I’m learning something about the trees in January,
So quiet, yet so alive.
a million tiny movements, imperceptible but important.
Acceptance in all stages,
Purpose, no matter how small.
Fall Fire
Rhythms
resolve
There are some very large letting goes to do:
people, places, honeyed and battered phases of life
there are some even larger letting goes to do:
anger, tears, parts of yourself that leave with no return.
have a past.
Everything that’s happened cannot be held today- Cleo Wade
Daze
Along the highway, June.
Pretending
Pretending I was
Across the sky
Riding clouds of thunder
Till the weight of collected burdens
Dropped me.
And I on the ground,
No longer light
But clinging wet and heavy to the earth
Till time separated me and
I was light Enough
to rise and pretend again.
Pastime
Hi,
I’m off next week to hopefully find fresh scenes and a fresh perspective. My girls just wrapped up the school year, and a little extra space and time to transition into summer is what I’m taking. I’m sure I’ll be shooting photos and resisting the urge to post them all.
Have a great weekend and subsequent week!
Details #5- At Odds
My art is currently suffering from a lack of creative direction. Past work has been incredibly meta, leaning into the unsettled feeling of the world. I have a deep belief in balance, movement, and duality, so allowing both/and these last few years has been huge for my vision.
But it feels like my creative posture is getting bad. Or rather, my mind is feeling atrophy sitting in this meta state. We can feel all the hard feelings, but in the end, what are we going to do with them?
I could just be tired. Enough sleep hasn’t come easy, and right now when I take time for art, it falls flat. These two things together make it seem like the world is ending. It’s ridiculous and thankfully I recognize my own bullshit here.
But the fact remains that sitting (with feelings) for too long is bad for you. So, what does standing up look like?
This week, if you hadn’t noticed, I opted to either explore my photography archives or shoot something new, with an intention of detail. SO rather than spend my free time in the news, scrolling, or consuming some piece of new information, a break from the headiness of modern life seemed warranted.
Waves in Silence
When life feels uncertain, find salt water.
Dreams and dreams only.
can you hear the music?
Southwest of Los Alamos, NM
Life on Earth
We’ve run away with possibilities and can’t see the utopia we already have.
We can’t see that we’re destroying it.
Or if we can, for whatever reason,
none of which I’ve heard is good enough
we don’t care.
a note on the sky
Pressure is a privilege- Billie Jean King
Obstinate
Hold me to some sort of formulaic space
A fluidity contained and moving, but not evaporated.
I don’t like the air. I won’t go.
zen moment
Seeking a quiet frame to get lost in.