- I was captivated by this photo that Cory Doctorow posted to his Flickr account of some dismembered pigeon wings splayed out on the streets of London like an angel's. Apparently this isn't as rare an occurrence as I believed. Curious. Sociopathy makes for some interesting photo ops: Mysterious Pigeon Wings On The Pavelment...
- Artist Mark Story created a photography project consisting of portraits, mostly, of men and women who have lived in the 19th, 20th and 21st centuries. I'm in love with this project. I take particular interest in plates #2, 8, 30 and 33. Those subjects are all Navajo. They remind me of my grandparents and home. I've always been fascinated with the elderly. For many reasons. The physical transformation the most striking because it's just that, striking. It takes the mind through all these different pathways. I think of a line telling a story. I wonder what it means to weather the greatest of storms. And what toll that takes on the body and soul. What it means to only know through experience. I see strength in the old. It's something I value and covet. I'm at odds with this city and it's take on aging. It's so spiritually disconnected and immature. I crave this look for it's allusion. I love growing old: Living In Three Centuries: The Face Of Age
- Finally I wanted to throw this one out there for no other reason than I thought as many people should see this as possible. Rankin created this photography project of decontexualized irises called Eyescapes. Looking at them... well... it's funny how we see them everyday but only within this context that I realize their true beauty. I'm reminded of how powerful the prime image of the circle is. I'm haunted by the abyssal dark of the pupil. And it's there that I'm lost. I'm visualizing these eyes as cosmic eggs. From the void a battle was fought and won. Its power and beauty bled out into the light... spiraling, falling, floating, colliding, coagulating, forming, etc. I look at the detail in these eyes and wonder what informs them now and what informed their creation. I think of the physical as a manifestation of the metaphysical. These genes, all my own, creating something unique. Mine alone. Yours. These drops of the universal. All of us, universes unto ourselves. These voids wreathed in our genetic glory. Two parts. One, we all share. Reminding me of our bond, our connection. The second, what we keep to ourselves. Reminding me of our fear, our disconnection: Eyescapes
DS333, pensive.
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