35mm // July (pt. 2) I am outside & they are inside

35mm // July.

After you

After you

between thoughts // scenes from ‘home,’ which is somewhere in TN, FL, & here.

"If poetry students don’t read broadly, why should anyone else? They read only their contemporaries, no interest in the past as present. Every writing program or conference should offer refresher zones—reading without writing for a brief or long while. Fill up the well if you want to be a writer. We live in an age where you can celebrify yourself instantly. You can pimp yourself in poetry or fiction overnight—anybody can publish anything now because of the Internet. With no critical standards and little reading, we aren’t talking about imaginative writing anymore. We’re talking about a cottage industry and the creation of artifacts and trinkets. The solitude of the writing experience—solitude that reads and converses with the great dead—seems an enemy of technology. Though, finally, I don’t believe this is true. There are poets of all ages who are not threatened by technology but do not have to use it as a club—in both senses of the word."

Carol Muske-Dukes, from “Those Who Hope Not to Be Erased: An Interview with Carol Muske-Dukes" by Alex Dueben, Paris Review (8 July 2014)

(via apoetreflects)

screen grab 7.18.14 (I am coming to see you)

screen grab 7.18.14 (I am coming to see you)

Some 35mm scans from the summer, which feels like it never started, like it will happen for ever, like it is ending tomorrow, and being aware of being asleep….all at the same time.

Listen to the sound of the way the silver ring around the middle finger of my right hand clinks the glass as I sip for the third time and realize the tightrope we are walking.  You are so far on the other side, I am not sure if it is really you over there, or just a foggy vision of me arriving where I think it will feel safer. 

Old Style: “No rules, ever.” Promise we aren’t related. (Pic by Jeanne, via whitten’s snap device)

Old Style: “No rules, ever.” Promise we aren’t related. (Pic by Jeanne, via whitten’s snap device)

Something I made this week.

Something I made this week.