I have no description for these. I'm not sure myself yet

An ode to October which is now gone.

Good morning October, welcome to life, take your first breath, begin your presence, your thirty one days of life. We're under your spell, under your watchful eyes, under your night skies.
Some will paint you, children will color you, leaves will cover you, and chilled winds will flutter you.
You October, you are so grand, you're the beginning of change, the rain stops, winds blow, leaves change. We change. And this time around? What will you bring to us October? Disaster in love, love in disaster? Parties and dances and screech owls flying proud. And your last days? Your last gasp of breath? It will be our turn to treat you well; we'll throw you a ball, we'll dress up like wizards, goblins, and goons, we'll try out hardest to keep you crazy. We;ll use all effort to ward off November, and the depths of December. We love you that's why. You treat us so smoothly and well.

I'm going to start a new blog, with all of my moleskin writings.

and thoughts, and poems, and everything like that.
This blog will turn into mainly my photographs.
the overflow of them too.

Sleepless, dreamless.
Strange attraction between myself and my very own downfall.
The moon with black curtains drenched.
My morning shared with baby monsters in my cereal.
How familiar those dark circles underneath my eyes are, how often those falling strands of my hair are.
a tight rope walker who trips, and a game of tug-of-war thrown into the mud.
We're both drenched.
The old Crooners have made me sad.
What a humble thing love is said to be.
Although I have never encountered such a selfless experience.

What then.
What.
someone with no legs cannot run a race.

Lip Bleed

From exasperation 

I hope

You laugh at witty things
I hope you smile every day
I hope you run a race
I hope there's joy within
I hope you are writing a masterpiece with the pieces of your very own self.
I hope there is love within
I hope you sing
I hope you scream
I hope you're sincere.
I just hope.

When I wear lipstick, no one understands me at all.

Sustained

Today, there was a shooting one street away from me, helicopters were circling, things were happening, I was making sweet potato fries and they were burning, and then my nose started to bleed. So in the midst of everything, I took some pictures, and I found peace. I believe I was telling my friend the plot of Breaking Bad the TV series where a chemistry teacher with lung cancer cooks meth. Ironic how my nose started bleeding. 

I have the same face in all these pictures, but uh I don't care. My hair is awful, and I'm not wearing any make-up. But hey, I didn't get shot today, even though I went on a bike ride and walk just to see if I could find out what was going on. A shooting, duh Gibson.

I am rambling so much.

ah.

Of Green.

WHY SUCH BAD QUALITY BLOGGER?

This is Of Green shoot I did today. No explanation, I don't know.

"I came home from class and visited some beautiful horses"

Washed out II

Yes I know the first one has no pigment. They are all supposed to have pigment, but I like just black and white for that one.

The Art Institute of Chicago

Washed out

New series "Washed Out". This series is composed of mainly monochromatic color schemes, with hints of color. Motion streams through the photographs in a peculiar way, showing a sense of movement and emotion. This serious obviously demonstrates emotions of sadness and despair. The title "Washed out" has to do with the fact of an object getting things taken away from it, and now being left with the basics, and a hint of something else left, hence the monochromatic scheme and dashes of color. This series is still in progress, and I will continue to add to it.

Am I doing well?

Am I doing well?

I should know for myself.

Motion take II