// this is what my legs look like in the aftermath of all the photo shoots this week (pretty gnarly) i have a tendency to get lost in the moment + slam onto the ground for a better angle, not realizing im injuring myself until hours later when joints freeze. photo compliments of j.alpert

and i feel we're getting closer to it all the time

via cosmic dust

AWESOME

here goes something

// here is a preview of the latest series i was working on before coming to new york. the series is entitled 'prognostication' (more to come when things settle a bit).

yes, please.

// the invention of life by rene magritte, 1928

in my dreams there are aliens, and SUV's,

and great pools of water.

and sometimes in the corner of my eye

one atom sparks

on its stay on the continue,

the nowhere zone.

we wait for Jesus to storm in

at the speed of light with a machete in hand.

and if he did. I'd escort myself out

as my grandmother did, as my mother does,

under the fuzz of deep prayer.

sure, that time is not yet full.

the sun is a great big lymph node in the sky

and i am the seeds inside the groin of

a cantaloupe, or a green pepper.

who will grab my mother by the waist

and rip out her womb? SNAP!

and cut, dice it up.

who will pick, with what tongs, for what reason?

the fruit that i am stuck to?

where will i land?

on the floor or in your mouth?

// 'binary numbers like drums around a fire' by my dear friend kristian rodriguez. been reading through my old journals lately and found this page from verbal seduction taped in. i feel lucky to have connected with a lot of people in my life, people whom i know that our meeting was blessed - kristian was/is one of these people. he is now in colorado working on a farm + i miss him.

//audio clip from 'being a photographer' lecture by the late john szarkowski given in los angeles in november 2006.

.

.

working on lots of new things/

website update by the end of the week

pretty, nyra lang

(evan opens the fridge and a bag of frozen meat smashes him in the foot. he proceeds to hop around the kitchen in pain)

me: ouch, that happened to me once when i was little. one of those condensed juice cans hit me in the foot, i lost my big toe nail

evan: what? did you get it back?

(uncontrollable laughter)

evan: what i dont know, that happened to me once and i got it back

me: did you say you didnt get it back?

evan: no i just wasnt sure if that went for toes to, someone slammed my finger in a door once

(uncontrollable laughter)

evan: what?

for the record my little brother is actually (normally) really intelligent.

i wish i always had my computer in the kitchen to transcribe everything that goes on in this place when im home.

me: in my world all cereal boxes would be either black or white with just tiny font in the corner saying the cereal name like 'cinnamon o's' wouldnt that be awesome?

evan: no, what are you communist?

me: come on, think about how great that would be

evan: but then i wouldnt be able to look at toucan sam on the back

(uncontrollable laughter)

i like this.

from '1000 awesome things' by monsieur cabinet

(from fourth meditation)

i think of the self-involved:

the ritualists of the mirror, the lonely drinkers,

the minions of benzedrine and paraldehyde,

and those who submerge themselves deliberately in trivia,

women who become their possessions,

shapes stiffening into metal,

match-makers, arrangers of picnics -

what do their lives mean,

and the lives of their children? -

the young, brow-beaten early into a baleful silence,

frozen by a father's lip, a mother's failure to answer.

have they seen, ever, the sharp bones of the poor?

or known, once, the soul's authentic hunger,

those cat-like immaculate creatures

for whom the world works?

...

(from what can i tell my bones?)

the sun! the sun! and all we can become!

and the time ripe for running to the moon!

in long fields, i leave my father's eye;

and shake the secrets from my deepest bones;

my spirit rises with the rising wind;

i'm thick with leaves and tender as a dove,

i take the liberties a short life permits -

i seek my own meekness;

i recover my tenderness by long looking.

by midnight i love everything alive.

who took the darkness from the air?

i'm wet with another life.

yea, i have gone and stayed.

what came to me vaguely is now clear,

as if released by a spirit,

or agency outside me.

unprayed-for,

and final.

// excerpts from two sections of 'meditations of an old woman' by theodore roethke from the book "words for the wind: the collected verse of theodore roethke" i got this book out from the library a few days ago and was disenchanted with most of the stuff in it fairly quickly, so i put it aside for awhile. yesterday before i went to sleep i looked at it again, and tucked in the last pages of the book was this 'meditations of an old woman' verse. its about twenty pages long and extremely beautiful. i find it very fascinating that a man decidedly chose to write from the perspective of an old woman - its interesting to think of how he would have written differently meditations of an old man. either way, beautifully touching verse that crossed me at a time in my life where it all seems extremely relevant.

delawearareyou + i_am_paper on polanoid

mom, breakfast //15 july

by sundayletters

i ask myself, here and now

what is better?

a city

or a man

and i suppose it is

a question

of permanence

and impermanence,

eternal

and ephemeral -

which brings

to mind

perhaps

a far greater question,

which is which?

you see, rome fell

like all men

before him

and you

and then

i laugh,

because i see -

no difference

// imper man ence, erin mulvehill july 2009

which dance before me like a million eyes// 16 july 2009

photographs shot with hasselblads by astronauts on the moon.

evan+lauren// 15 july

personal day of transformation

those who awaken

never rest in one place.

like swans, they rise

and leave the lake.

on the air they rise

and fly an invisible course,

gathering nothing, storing nothing.

their food is knowledge.

they live upon emptiness.

they have seen how to break free.

who can follow them?

only the master.

such is purity.

like a bird,

he rises on the limitless air

and flies an invisible course.

he wishes for nothing.

his food is knowledge.

he lives upon emptiness.

he has broken free.

// excerpt from 'vii the master' from the dhammapada

saw this film yesterday with my father at the little theater in rochester, ny

new work/

26" x 18"

hand piece

raise your hand in the evening light

and watch it until it becomes transparent

and you see the sky and the trees through it.

body piece

stand in the evening light until you

become transparent or until you fall

asleep.

// yoko ono, 1961 summer, from 'grapefruit'

goodbye, goodbye to one place or another,

to every mouth, to every sorrow,

to the insolent moon, to weeks

which wound in the days and disappeared,

goodbye to this voice and that one stained

with amaranth, and goodbye

to the usual bed and plate,

to the twilit setting of all goodbyes,

to the chair that is part of the same twilight,

to the way made by my shoes.

i spread myself, no question;

i turned over whole lives,

changed skin, lamps, and hates,

it was something i had to do,

not by law or whim,

more of a chain reaction;

each new journey enchained me;

i took pleasure in place, in all places.

and, newly arrived, i promptly said goodbye

with still newborn tenderness

as if the bread were to open and suddenly

flee from the world of the table.

so i left behind all languages,

repeated goodbyes like an old door,

changed cinemas, reasons, and tombs,

left everywhere for somewhere else;

i went on being, and being always

half undone with joy,

a bridegroom among sadnesses,

never knowing how or when,

ready to return, never returning.

it's well known that he who returns never left,

so i traced and retraced my life,

changing clothes and planets,

growing used to the company,

to the great whirl of exile,

to the great solitude of bells tolling.

// 'goodbyes' by pablo neruda

photographs of the polaroid factory

via the impossible project

father/time

04 july, 5:50:47 pm

aliens!

via omegawm

zSHARE - DJ JMULV - ELECTRO HOUSE MAY 09.mp3

music mixed by my brother, dj mjollnir (formerly known as dj jmulv)

claire morgan/ 'fluid'

so beautiful

polaroids/ little sister, 05 july

lauren, 05 july 2009 // webster ny, 6:07 pm

80s hair + independence day

attack of the cousin and sister post-nap / 04 july, 4:03 pm

meg, 04 july 2009 // webster ny, 7:33 am

digital preview of film to come.

my fathers hands // 09+12 june 2009

hands hands hands

andrea shear

virgin suicides ( 1999 )

beautiful image.

"...the visceral, hypnotizing weirdness of Daito Manabe's facial electric stimulus. He tapes electric stimulators, looking like the same type used for electroshock therapy, to his face, and syncs them with his music so his involuntary facial contortions match up with the tune." via gizmodo gadget blog