where the morning and afternoon light are good

My current thoughts on photography: I have a lot to learn. I appreciate photoshop and believe using it is an art, and maybe this is because I am lazy, but I prefer my photographs to remain nude, my mistakes laid bare. We were talking about this sort of thing in poetry workshop--how you don't really want an entirely perfect poem. Think about how quilters an knitters leave a little mistake, their mark, to show it wasn't done by a machine. Real hands touched this work. And on light: I don't like using a flash, and I prefer natural light. The lamplight is too yellowing. I love the bright whites of morning light, of the afternoon.

I regularly drop work off at the local framing shop, prints swept in from etsy, letterpress poems found at the Minnesota Center for the Book Arts, and one of the framers told me the photographer at the studio might start a local photography club, and she urged me to join. Perhaps I will, though I'm afraid I'd be the dopey one, the little sidekick who asks all the questions. (How else do you learn? How do you keep from dragging everyone down?)


It's Thursday, and my nose weighs heavier than any other part of my body, full of snot and refuse. My souvenir from Florida; perhaps I am allergic to the sun and beach.

And Saturday is part two of the Urtel move. I promise not to lick all the boxes and furniture as we go, though I might hide between rugs and drain myself once in a while! (Yuck, I know.)

Instead of that image, I will leave you with some beautiful things I've stumbled onto on the internet recently:

- This postcard project.
- This photo exchange.
- The sky above you prints.
- Cloth covered boxes.
- Mobiles: linen and button.
- I want to make these.
- Oh the things you can do with old sweaters: animals and baskets.