Category: photography
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It was only a matter of hours. The sunflower who had stood so tall, a full head taller than me, regal and commanding, had turned her gaze towards the earth instead of the stars. I’d come back to take a daytime image of her. I expected her to be smiling at the sun, chin held…
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I met her in the showers, at the University Recreation Center on the Friday night of welcome week. She was me.
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My shadow lives on vine-covered walls. It stretches before me on the sidewalks I travel, everywhere I go. It’s much like every other shadow, I think: at once ordinary, commonplace, beneath notice—and also completely unique to me and the slant of each passing hour’s sunlight. My shadow disappears at night, except when the moon shines.…
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No and You Cannot Rinsing a dish, I think: When I grow up, I want to be a poem! flaring, burning, writhing, flaming, feel my body shrivel to ash, feel my soul drift heavenward… “Ri-dic-u-lous!” the twins chorus No and You Cannot, that pair who live in my head, have lived there my whole life,…
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Waxing moon/July 28 How many times we all cooed at the newborn moon, cradled in the ghostly arms of the Sycamore we oohed, we ahhed, we sighed— moonstruck Tonight the waxing moon’s gotten herself tangled in the twisty-fingered Sweet Gum just outside my new window I ooh, I ahh, I sigh— still moonstruck
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Woke thinking about kindness, about giving, about change. How hurt people hurt people, themselves or others. Are some people hurt because few people have ever been kind to them? Maybe I’m being unbelievably naive, thinking like a fourteen-year-old girl doomed to be murdered by power-crazed regime, by people who killed humans en masse, like it…
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I’m no scientist, but still, I’m fascinated by the process of scientific exploration and discovery. I enjoy reading non-fiction written by scientists, like Michio Kaku, Hannah Holmes, Candace Pert; my favorite column in the New York Times Magazine is “Diagnosis,” where there’s a patient who presents with mysterious symptoms who is puzzled over and prodded…
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Invasion Oh, I love the honeysuckle sucking the air from the mouths of tenderer locals— love it though it overtakes, sprawls without shame Oh, honeysuckle, I breathe you in. It’s an awful love. In your exhalations I smell my own perfume thick foreign scent Oh, I try not to overshadow but like the honeysuckle, I might,…
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I’m not religious, and I hope I don’t offend anyone by saying what I believe. I believe in a higher power. I believe that higher power is manifested most purely in love. I don’t mean only romantic love, though that is one form. In our culture, that kind of love is held up as a…
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Grateful for lamb’s tongues abuzz with bees on a late-spring evening. It was one of those days where a fog I didn’t know was lingering blew away in the breeze, and all the colors burned brighter.
eeo 