i want to live in a soft-focus world, all sepia-colored, blurred in all the right places, the sun perpetually glowing somewhere out of sight. i want the kind of face with the eyes glowing bright, color shining like joy defined to CMYK values, hue and saturation amped so my pale skin recedes and my eyes catch everybody else's. i want perfect skin in quirky-cropped portraits. but i want it to seem so real, authentic, natural, images that make your belly clinch with wistfulness. i want polaroids, off-center, with the taste of authenticity woven in with the chemicals and the paper.
Shake, shake.
desaturated shots of me laughing with a background of a place you've never been, vague enough to make you long to go. hair blowing in a breeze. eyes knowing over the edge of a coffee cup, my body bending as I lean into the frame from a world outside - a rich and beautiful, soft-focus, hazy-edge, perpetually young world where it's clear I live, yes, all the time, only occasionally stepping into this neat rectangle so you can glimpse my life in its hazy, carefully-carelessly-composed and lightly edited glory.
click, click.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
animal encounters
Last night jenny and I were driving through the darkness and we glimpsed a tail - an enormous tail, bushy as a squirrel's, far bigger than a beaver's. It looked like a brown skunk tail, if skunks came that big, and in brown, but I've never seen a skunk that moved that fast. I'm not used to my neighborhood containing mysteries that scuttle away like that.
Today as I was biking home a vulture descended from the sky right before me, black wings filling my vision and startling me nearly off my bike. I think its wingspan was as wide as I am tall. I was never good at the bird IDs, but it wasn't a turkey vulture - the head was an unsettling white (cf: Moby Dick, chapter 42) instead of red. It watched me as I rode past, like an omen centuries out of place.
The other week I asked William: Are we primates? A silly thing to forget, I know. Yes, he said, not laughing at me. Definitely primates. I touched my fingers to my thumb and listened to him talk.
Today as I was biking home a vulture descended from the sky right before me, black wings filling my vision and startling me nearly off my bike. I think its wingspan was as wide as I am tall. I was never good at the bird IDs, but it wasn't a turkey vulture - the head was an unsettling white (cf: Moby Dick, chapter 42) instead of red. It watched me as I rode past, like an omen centuries out of place.
The other week I asked William: Are we primates? A silly thing to forget, I know. Yes, he said, not laughing at me. Definitely primates. I touched my fingers to my thumb and listened to him talk.
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