day's end. tomorrow is another day and hopefully sleep will heal my wrenched back.
326-365 inspired by Jay To The Vee's lens flares
day's end. tomorrow is another day and hopefully sleep will heal my wrenched back.
326-365 inspired by Jay To The Vee's lens flares

The eye is the communicative center of the face, not the mouth. The eyes are the focus of every portrait, even when the eyes are closed.
It is hard to be on both sides of the lens and get crisp focus on not the eye area, not the brow, not the lash, but the iris. And to not have the pupils be in the light and not become pinpricks at the brightness and at the mis-fired shots. And over the months it is getting harder to ignore those eyebrows that want to migrate and cover my eyelid. I want my head hear to grow longer but I didn't mean that head hair.
325-365

Mending, amending and re-mending my ways
322-365
pinned, sewn, photographed, printed, sewn and scanned. And the teeny nearly invisible spot of red on the right index finger is a bead of blood. I managed to stab myself. I considered squeezing some onto the glass for the melodrama but passed on such contrived excitement.
Post-Carravagio, uncertain angel askew in dark room. light sensitivity. I am fungus. I am cave of sporing cotton.
321-365
It's grimy too. I spent 4 or 5 hours cleaning the storage locker. Sorting thru stuff that even didn't get unboxed in the last 3 moves.
The floor is now navigable. I look like a miner. I talk and dust comes out.
I have some catching up to do with 365. Photos taken but not processed.
319-365