no exit*

I really liked the textures of this brick wall; it was the side of a building where we parked in Seattle to go to Pike's Market. I like the dirt and grime on it; I think it gives it a human quality.

*Sorry, Mr. Sartre. I couldn't think of a better title.

thoughts caught in my mind

(Remnants of some kind of plastic bag caught and torn on barbed wire.)

mini cards

words to live by.

These are eggs laid by fat free-range hens*.

*I know they're fat because the stall owner had pictures of them. They're just a bunch of happy, overweight chickens hanging around the farm--it's really funny--although chickens are inherently funny already.

a humbling nature

I dislike the taste of cilantro.

a display of my true feelings.

Leftover petals floating at the bottom of a bucket.

an unfortunate slight

Whether they were tossed or dropped or simply fell, all these little bits of nature ended up in a rather artful arrangement. Perhaps they are all members the same karass, and their wampeter was to be in this photograph. [Hopefully I've used these Bokononist terms correctly.]

own a little piece of telltale signs!

I recently opened a new Etsy shoppe to offer prints of my photography and original artwork, and would like to welcome you to come visit!

telltale signs shoppe


My new sticker labels.

slow reflexes

In the laundry room at my apartment complex sits a row of genteel chairs, looking like they were hustled from a waiting room somewhere. They are all attached together, so if one goes, they all go, or else you'll need a hacksaw or a screwdriver or both. They're such great popsicle colors. I think it'd be neat to have it in my dwelling. Not that I plan on taking it...

the star pupil.

I just have to say that this is one of my personal favorites.

when i grow up

A tiny pinecone still attached to a twig--I found this a few months ago, and have it on display in my little dwelling. It's very dainty.

yummy town

An Asian bakery in Chinatown, New York. What a great day it was to find this place!! Ah, egg tarts... How I miss thee!!

cornered by distance

She felt the distance in the gap between their hands, not holding; she felt in the space between their mouths, not kissing; she felt it in the air around their hips, not touching; she felt it lodged in their chests, not sharing.



[Taken by the Sea Lion Caves in Oregon; texture layer added.]

i don't get enough sleep

[Taken from a cab in New York.]

Alice

Every Wednesday, at 2 p.m., without fail, Howard thought of his late wife. It wasn't that he didn't think of her at other times; it was just, at this precise time, certain memories would come rushing back as if they had just happened an hour ago. At first, they had been so strong that Howard became convinced that she was still alive--alive!!!---and then the devastating realization that she was not waiting at home for him (or playing with their terrier Teesta, or eating vanilla ice-cream, or wrapping her polka-dot scarf around her dainty neck, or even pulling up the weeds in her garden) would paralyze him.

Eventually, he learned to prepare himself for this event, since he never could predict how it would leave him feeling. Sometimes, often times, he would take Wednesdays off from work altogether. He couldn't stop it from happening; even when--and it did happen--he forgot the time or the day--all of a sudden, he would mysteriously appear in a lifelike dream where they were visiting her mother, or just waking up next to each other, or arguing about what color they were going to paint the hallway. The hallway--for crying out loud, why did he ever fight with her about that?! Little things like this crushed his soul now.

As the years dredged on, he waxed and waned between loving this golden hour that allowed him just a few more vivid moments with her, and hating the heart-wrenching solitude it left him in (I could and should have loved her more! If you give me a second chance I will!!!). This strange phenomenon followed him well past retirement, and, at age 86, on August 3rd, a Wednesday, at 2 p.m., she came again. And, at last, at last, this time, she stayed.