Archive for the ‘photography’ Category
the imperious wind
random family portrait
from max wanger blog: jesse +whitney family
a chicken or an egg
“Francisca’s eggs are small, creamy and the yolk is yellowish orange while Bonita’s yolk’s are the color of persimons. I have not yet tasted Bonita’s eggs. Astrid won’t share those. She’s addicted to eggs.”
text: beatrice valenzuela’s pretty post eggs
photo: Manuel Carrillo – Girl with Chicken
dust
Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
image from Martina Hoogland Ivanow – Satellite
the rooster and his white hens
The afternoon I wrote to you about the rooster and his hens we came back to the ranch to find them gone–the little white hens almost without a trace–and piles of rooster’s green and bronze and black feathers scattered everywhere. By searching carefully I found four white feathers a short distance from the house. The coyotes had come–at least four of them I think because otherwise the dogs could have protected rooster and his hens. Coyotes waste nothing and so it is as if the white hens were never here; the rooster, on the other hand, was always a strange creature. A number of times I would be talking to Denny and would feel as if we were not alone; when I looked out the open window I’d find the rooster listening outside like a being out of some Haitian voodoo story. Now when the wind blows I find feathers, every time thinking that surely now I am seeing them for the last time, but finding them again and again. What is remarkable though are the colors of the feathers, which remain undimmed, and the texture of the feathers, which is as glossy as if they had only just fallen from him; and all this after weeks of the feathers blowing around the ground in dust and rain.
1.a tarkovsky polaroid: Domiziana Giordani, Actress, Bagno Vignoni, 2 November 1982
2. a letter to james wright written by leslie marmon silko
siblings
“Or else I shall grow old,” she said,
“Alone, and change my likeliness
For a vile, slack shape, a head
Shriveled with thinking wickedness
Against the day I must be dead
And eaten by my crabbed wish.”
from young woman by howard nemerov
educating your own judgements
“Ideally, what should be said to every child, repeatedly, throughout his or her school life is something like this: ‘You are in the process of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system of education that is not a system of indoctrination. We are sorry, but it is the best we can do. What you are being taught here is an amalgam of current prejudice and the choices of this particular culture. The slightest look at history will show how impermanent these must be. You are being taught by people who have been able to accommodate themselves to a regime of thought laid down by their predecessors. It is a self-perpetuating system. Those of you who are more robust and individual than others will be encouraged to leave and find ways of educating yourself — educating your own judgments. Those that stay must remember, always, and all the time, that they are being molded and patterned to fit into the narrow and particular needs of this particular society.”
(photo: vivian maier by way of the lovely tea and cactus and more here)
rattle once
Sleep Chains
Who can sleep when she —
hundreds of miles away I feel that vast breath
fan her restless decks.
Cicatrice by cicatrice
all the links
rattle once.
Here we go mother on the shipless ocean.
Pity us, pity the ocean, here we go.
~anne carson
(photo by jean mohr: here)
simply say
I should simply say to myself: “Every day I’m going to make a photo.”
~sarah moon
sun-bleached
“Sun-bleached bones were most wonderful against the blue – that blue – that will always be there as it is now after all man’s destruction is finished.”
~Georgia O’Keeffe
[Georgia O’Keeffe’s] Hands, 1918, Alfred Stieglitz.
