{sunday} Mark Daniels ~ Beaver Stream

Interview by Jordan Kapono Nakamura
I want this job because
it sounds like something I could do
and I’m hungry, physically.
I have extensive experience
in studying what water says as it plummets.
Yes, I can carry more than 35lbs, but what
does that have to do with anything?
I’ve wrestled angelic beings
and the nine lives of pathological compulsion.
I have sworn an oath against the roman calendar
and its derivative mutations.
I can be firm as cold turkey.
My two letters of recommendation are
f and u. They can be used in surf, which
is one way to step on what wants me drowned.
I have heard the hinges of the doors of the sea
creak, so I read a book beneath a tree.
I think a lie can be worse than murder but also
I have never died. I can definitely think of a time
when I had to multitask while under immense pressure,
but would prefer not to. My goal is to recall my past lives
and be free in each. My strength is being scattered
and rooted at the same time. My weakness is entertaining
a party of every kind of consequence.
My kink is a copless land where no one hoards anything.
I can start on any day you are prepared to train.
I can end on any day that ends in why not,
for real, I don’t need this,
the people got me you know,
I’m with the people.

Happy Sunday.

I think some really early David Bowie is in order. You might want to activate captions for the lyrics.

1966—he was 19 or 20
Same album
His band, Feathers, with Hermione Fatheringale, who broke his heart later … inspiring …
Letter to Hermione, from the “Space Oddity” album.

{sunday} Clint Cline ~ Red. Fish.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Happy Sunday.

Much of the beauty that arises in art comes from the artist’s struggle with his limited medium.—Henri Matisse

This site celebrates images mostly shot and always processed on iPhones or other iOS devices. Occasionally, source images from DSLRs or other cameras are processed on iOS devices. 

No laptop or desktop computers are used for image manipulation.

Aim well, shoot fast, and scram.—Henri Cartier-Bresson.

Aim well, shoot fast, and app that bitch until it sings.—Knox Bronson.


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