December 27, 2011

3:14 AM

This is what the moon might look like if I never slept.

Oh Mercy
Only the billionth person
to glance up at the moon tonight
which looks bald, high-browed and professorial to me,

the kind of face I always shook my fist at
when I was seventeen
and every stopsign was a figure of authority

that had it in for me
and every bottle of cold beer
had a little picture of my father on the label

for smashing down in parking lots
at 2 AM, when things devolved
into the dance of who was craziest.

That year, if we could have reached the moon,
if we could have shoplifted the paint and telescoping ladders,
we would have scribbled FUCK YOU

on its massive yellow cheek,
thrilled about the opportunity
to offend three billion people

in a single night.
But the moon stayed out of reach,
imperturbable, polite.

It kept on varnishing the seas,
overseeing the development of grapes in Italy,
putting the midwest to bed

in white pajamas.
It’s seen my kind
a million times before

upon this parapet of loneliness and fear
and how we come around in time
to lifting up our heads,

looking for the kindness
that would make revenge unnecessary.

- Tony Hoagland

December 25, 2011


self on christmas eve

Grace let me photograph her for a bit today. 

one of the very first photos I took of Grace (for kicks):

December 18, 2011

notes and things

I went through this notebook I've been using as a sort of stream of consciousness log or whatever, and I don't remember jotting down half the things I did jot down but I was bored during class and sit right next to this lovely scanner so here are a few pages. Sometimes I don't write forwards and its all a little sideways and sloppy cause thats the way my hands work.

and I finally got back into darkroom, its been so long:

December 5, 2011

18th B

Much of my life lately has been spent as a wandering teenager walkin aimlessly through suburbia, and I like to think that when I'm walking, I'm punctuating thoughts with my feet and breathing over things that would normally go stale inside my head. The physicality of moving from point a to everywhere does something for me that point b could never do. Having nowhere to go can feel kind of nice when you let it. 

I took these on my 18th birthday, when the fog was so thick it made everything so ambient and full.

Callah and Heather

 Jessi, Callah and the naked trees


Houses houses houses packed like sardines