My mother died when I was 15. The impact lingers to this day. So this piece by Masaru Goto struck me deeply: “…my mother died. I was with her. She is with me” I love the intersection of poetry and photography. I want to explore that myself. A powerfully moving project.
The sun blocks the moon Or is Sauron searching hard For his ring again?
Head Cake, Katherine Dey on dionisopunk.com A post shared by Dioniso Punk (@dionisopunk) on Jul 2, 2017 at 12:09pm PDT French aristocrats Their talk of “let them eat cake” Then losing their heads This is just a bit of an experiment to see how Instagram’s embed feature works. Looks like it’s too good, […]
This morning’s calmness I always feel at peace here The presence of home I hope your Friday or productive and effective.
Over the winter I noticed the congregation of crows off around 405 near the Beardslee exit in Bothell. Masses of them, swarming, much like starlings, without the elegance. As the weather has warmed up, this feathered city has dissipated. Trees have been in bloom for quite some time. This, too, is a delight. Most all […]