Times are rough for my camera. Things are getting a little... dusty. Disuse is a cruel thing to make a camera bear, but I'm a cruel person anyway. Here are some photos, some old, one or two new.
Out of Reaches, Out of Scenery
Times are rough for my camera. Things are getting a little... dusty. Disuse is a cruel thing to make a camera bear, but I'm a cruel person anyway. Here are some photos, some old, one or two new.
I need to sleep.
I find myself self-assured, and dressed in funny clothes.
Time has been moving almost depressingly fast. At the discovery that I had nothing new to advertise, I journeyed out and had a little night shoot.
There's still some rust to be shaken off of my good old self, so let's call this my winter warm-up roll. Don't get me wrong, I really do like these photos, but I'm still a long way from home.
There's a Chief Investigator Standing in the Middle of the Street.
I promised nightmares would come. My cup runneth over.
In this horrordream I drifted from images of simple souls trapped in horrortableaux to dark things that lived there of their own accord. As I drifted from one character to the next, some part of my mind said (In that silent dream speech you never hear, but immediately understand):
These are your possible futures. After all, your future is in your hands, but your hands are frail, and incapable. Your lot lies with this grim deck. You will bleed into this minor arcana.
THE FAMILY MAN.
THE RENAISSANCE MAN.
THE RECLUSE.
SLOTH.
THE MUSICIAN.
THE THINKER.
THE CHRONIC MASTURBATOR.
THE SENTINEL.
In this horrordream I drifted from images of simple souls trapped in horrortableaux to dark things that lived there of their own accord. As I drifted from one character to the next, some part of my mind said (In that silent dream speech you never hear, but immediately understand):
These are your possible futures. After all, your future is in your hands, but your hands are frail, and incapable. Your lot lies with this grim deck. You will bleed into this minor arcana.
THE FAMILY MAN.
THE RENAISSANCE MAN.
THE RECLUSE.
SLOTH.
THE MUSICIAN.
THE THINKER.
THE CHRONIC MASTURBATOR.
THE SENTINEL.And then it ended.
And Then.
At first I thought the name "A day in the Light" would suffice to explain this collection. It may not. Let this be read it as a series of images with presence, told in calls and answers of shapes and tones. I think I'm actually pretty pleased with these, so do chime in.
words fail me
hi, this is _ signing on. thanks to tom and all for having me. this is a series in collage i put together titled as above.
All the Old Familiar Places.
Went on an expedition through a closed mall. There were no security guards, so I did not punch anything in the face, and then run. I jest. Security guards require hoagies - not violence. (Seriously, if you're somewhere you shouldn't be, and it's fairly harmless trespassing, e.g. a not chemical plant or an also not military base, carry sandwiches.)
Moved through the back halls, made a few T2 references, and then found a few images around some familiar stomping grounds. Even attempted a remix of an old family favorite.
It's hard to believe that this is the place.
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