Photographic Impressionistic Illusionistic
Photography Without Rules
Make no excuses for yourself
And never apologize
To those who hate themselves.
A bitter outcome
Dragging us
Into their drowning pool
Is inevitable.
But know this;
We have the power
To transform hate
If it has not fully consumed
Its host,
With love.
A strength that will try us
And kill us
Many times over.
Love
Is not easy.
In-camera multiple exposure photograph.
Rain falls without regard
To impact and discomfort
Footprints left in the path
Waiting to be removed
When next tears flood
A constant ringing in my ears
Cries from lives lost
Climbing the crest of my soul
Pins hammered into my bones
To keep them steady
Looking for details
Searching, scratching, screaming
For details
But there are none
Colors
There are only colors
Original oil on canvas “Descending Day” 16″x20″
A family of cubs
Encouraged to fight
Testing mettle
Was a time, when boys were told to go outside and the expectation of no contact for the entire day was acceptable. We ran and fought without permanent damage (most of the time). There were pick up games of street football/baseball. Occasionally we’d head to the school field and play tackle football. No pads or teeth guards. Yeah, some teeth were lost.
We loved our parents and listened to them closely, or suffer the belt, or switch. Stripes kept us in check.
There was an order in the group. The strongest was the unelected leader. We joyfully supported and defended him, unless he was unjust or lacked compassion. In those cases, we walked away.
Everyone loves us
Look at what we like
Measured importance
We’re so famous
But no one tells us
Just look at what we like!
Our taste is impeccable
It make us famous
But no one tells us
Come to my house
Electronically
We’ll collaborate
Our fame is evidenced
A few clicks
In the search engine
Mind your SEO
Like mowing the lawn
Weed and feed
About living the binary life online….a bit of silliness I guess. Have we become television?
Hyper edited architectural photos – UCSD Live and Learn campus.
The call of spring
A mere splash of color
Descending into a single point of energy
Its power
Hidden
From the rush of responsibility
One must decide
The lens of perspective
Whether of practical means
Or the freefall
Of climbing
Outside the skin
That blinds the eyes
And reveals the river
Of order among the chaos
We must always see the forest from the trees, but sometimes we just need to get real close to the magic in tiny spaces.
Modified Helios lens
Photographic Impressionistic Illusionistic 