traci and a. photographing the seagulls at the back of the ferry. galveston, tx
admittedly.. this is the one i actually wanted to post.
it got buried among my other photos.
instead, according to flickr, this became the most “popular” photo i have ever posted.
It’s funny when you try to bury something that refuses to be buried.
(like love, or heartache, or the feeling of being compelled to write about something)
more often than not, the images of the things i try to bury come out in my dreams
and in my sleep i revisit the details,
tracing my fingers along the soft edges of the things i remember,
or the sharp ones of the things i think i remember, but really just imagined.
more often than not, the feelings i associate with those things are magnified in these meetings during sleep
and i wonder… if i dig them out from their graves and face them,
what will they become instead?
i still can’t get over the detail in the wings, and
how the smaller creatures seem overwhelm the larger ones,
and the formation against the seemingly blank sky
which makes it seem either ominous, or peaceful, or horrific
depending on how you look at it.
so this is me digging it out. and i’m looking.
"You don’t need a war.
You don’t need to go anywhere.
It’s a myth: if you hurl
yourself at chaos
chaos will catch you.”