bean can, better run
October 19, 2009
your a wild gold dust version,
caught in the tree tops of clumsy revolutions.
“we can do this girls”,
and clumsy revolutions.
skinned knee’s and sticky lips,
lolly in hand like a declaration
of some ass kicking time.
saran wrap
October 19, 2009
nothing is gone, the impressions left when choosing to step out of my own seal skin and wonder into someones domesticated amen’s is a sticky humbled home. but on occasion, i have seen masks come off, torn off like you take a lover, just as i have come to understand the tremendous amount of courage required to celebrate someones shape without projecting yours upon it. as our personal universe expands, it makes it easier to watch the things separate from us that don’t hold well to courage. eventually, that wall will stretch to a saran wrap, even making god transparent. and this is my inspiration to you, to take off your clothes and looking into the future and penetrate beyond the veil of his flesh.
antlers for eyes
October 14, 2009
“wanting things makes you trust, i want to trust a deer, but i dont want one, i would trust myself, if i had antlers”.
come on, the water’s fine.
August 16, 2009
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- breanne russell and timothy grey, director’s of the documentary, “under the eightball” visit there trailor site, http://undertheeightball.com/
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- breanne russell and timothy grey, director’s of the documentary, “under the eightball”
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- russell and timothy grey, director’s of the documentary, “under the eightball”
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- russell and timothy grey, director’s of the documentary, “under the eightball”
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- russell and timothy grey, director’s of the documentary, “under the eightball”
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- russell and timothy grey, director’s of the documentary, “under the eightball”
dune forest day’s, elberta michigan
August 16, 2009
hasselblad 501CM, 120mm macro, fuji neopan 400iso
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- maren of “photographers”
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- photographers, 2009
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- maren and john, 2009
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- photographers 2009
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- john of “photographers”
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- book
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- benzonia, michigan 2008
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- empire state chemical stain
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- benzonia, michigan 2008
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- beulah michigan, 2008
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- traverse city, michigan
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- junk yard, benzonia, michigan 2008
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- wolf I
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- maren, 2009
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- beulah, michigan
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- Wolf II
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- coney island, 2008
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- junk yard, benzonia michigan 2008
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- red house orchard, 2008
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- redhouse times
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- junk yard, benzonia michigan 2008
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- beulah michigan, 2008
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- benzonia michigan 2008
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- betsie dam, benzonia, michigan
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- italy, spring 2009 hasselblad 501cm, 120mm, fuji velvia 50iso
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- italy 2009
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- chapel at saint marie de la mer, france 2009
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- france 2009
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- france 2009, hasselblad 501cm, 120mm, fuji velvia 50iso
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- path to the grotto, france 2009
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- le baume, france 2009 hasselblad 501cm, 120mm, fuji velvia 50iso
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- france, 2009
june 1st, 1942: 927 calories, 63 deg. fahrenheit. by, meredith kathryn-case gipson hoogendam
March 29, 2008
what is it like, to measure time
in calories, each moment a caloric collection
of seconds, each month a record
of how many grapefruits eaten, how many
pieces of cake or slices of cheese denied,
days upon days stretching into the absense
of every fat gram you did not eat,
every desire you did not pursue,
every dream you did not have.
i know a girl with eyes as hollow
you can see
her soul beneath them.
she traces her lineage
with harsh bone fingers, counts
the birth that hangs like plump apples
from her family tree,
each little red ball
a reminder of her own
empty branch,
devoid of apples and menstruation.
her grandmother keeps a diary, records
calorie intake and degrees fahrenheit
on the same top line of each page.
june 1st, 1942: 927 cal, 63 deg. fahrenheit.
the girl imagines her grandmother, sixty
years younger, measuring
milk for cereal and checking
the window thermometer
for signs of change.
the girl wonders if her life, too, could be traced
with such precision, each bite
the anniversary of a birth or a death, each pound
weighing the girth
of her heart, the measure
of her place on the earth.
the girl asks God;
if i get so small that you take
my place, will my feet still press imprints
into the ground, or will i simply disappear?
but God gives no answer
and her feet become so light
she nearly vanishes;
like a levitating Eve,
who picks the apple
and then gives it to Adam,
so that he might ingest the calories
she does not deserve.
veil
March 29, 2008
as our own personal universe expands,
its difficult to watch the separation,
what we cling to,
what doesn’t hold well to courage.
eventually, that wall will stretch to a saran wrap,
even making god transparent,
and penetrate beyond the veil of his flesh.
robert b. bushway
