in spite of ourselves, we'll end up sittin' on a rainbow.

Friday, January 27, 2012

it melted, then it froze.






shorts that hang suspended in my father's time. The Fortress, aka. my father's woodshed creation. think mike's clearcut in terms of gaudiness, and mother's chagrin. something of humanity nestled in the mountains. fullness and emptiness and space and closeness.

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