I have been incredibly distracted by late Autumn’s treble of light, lost deep in the woods of mind and briar. This gray day comes on and upends all discovery. I feel stunted and dumb, dragged out from the underbrush, bungled.
Every day in October I set out to make photographs that were as much inward looking as outward. I visit the same spots year after year in close proximity to my home. They are little corners, paths, intersections, back lots, woods, groves, pastures of dying meadow grass. The locations are of no particular importance but […]
(Sept 17) Today in Clinton my children stepped on the first shed skin of Autumn. She’s around now. In the evening you can hear her gown dragging across the grain. I swear my wool sweaters crawled into the bedroom armoire yesterday when we were at Emmett’s ballgame. I did not see them in there all […]
I favor November to October, when the floor is littered with failure and a tarnished gold. It’s then I walk straight into the bramble, foothold in the musty, leafy mud, fingers in the rough-hewn skin of the walnut tree and pull myself in. So much gained inside that ordained thicket. I find myself eventually taciturn […]
