not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

the bones

driftwood along the lips

flies on the corpse of an overripe peach

water when we are thirsty


  1. Hey, Erin - love your mesh of image and word heart and mind as always. I noticed on Google Reader two extraordinary posts that never got put on your blog. One about a bear with gravel in his mouth and the other I can't recall but I remember it filling me with spirit. Just know it's all good. Take care.

  2. you say, "there is truth in the form of mystery."
    such a beautiful line to ponder when looking at your
    work erin. i have always loved how you interpret,
    give your own thoughts to where you point the viewfinder.
    you still beg one ask the questions of (a) truth!
    these two are especially beautiful to me. i seem to travel within them both. the voids are so attractive.



"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))