the rains came

so long to may, the painful transition out of winter completes.

You’re alive. you can breathe. Your guts are rotten. your eyes may be filled with a million million floaters, a sea of waving specular highlights against an already wobbly (probs damaged) optic nerve. you can move and your beautiful red jeep will take you where ever you want to go. The shoulder, yes, it’s falling apart. okay. You need it to lift heavy cameras. okay. but your blood pumps deep into your body, still. The desires are all muted and confounding but they still exist. you’re alive. you can breathe. tape the falling off or apart to the body. cinch what you can. massage, cream, medicate what you cant. you’re alive still, breathing. Still. go.

big poppa rides in style into oblivion. my first ducking for lilah.

I had a longish post mostly wrote out but as I sit and think on what I’m saying I’m less motivated to say things.

I’ve been out shooting again. The rains and beautiful spring clouds. The dynamic light. They called me back again.

I’m also working in re-editing everything from 2020 forward into a single profile I’ve been honing for some time. Breakthrough’s all around.

I’m going to try hard in june to actually write and edit photos rather than just take them and let them pile up never to be seen again. We’ll see though. I trippled my garden this year.

who has time for all this living.