my pictures
I wake up
I dress up
As if I knew what I were doing but I don't. At all.
and my pictures show that.
My socks never match and my pants never fit right
and my hair is either too flat
or too
curly but I have my grades and my brain except
I don't.
my numbers arent high enough for me to be blech
and ive never stayed up until two in the morning in books
and im not even in the top percent.
two people
out of two hundred in a small
town and i couldnt even
get that.
my pictures show. my pictures that are never
on the wall of a classroom or in a school newspaper and I
never did something brilliant.
at least not in my pictures.
usually im never in them.
a row of girls and boys in fine dresses and shirts
and i was in the bathroom when the shot was taken.
just outside.
but i leave them
for my pictures
for a little square in a light
painting. that's it. it was all a
painting with pixels and with silver particles and paper that changes and
burns brown.
i feel the image and i know where it wants to
go and i
listen to it.
in my pictures, i am not in
the bathroom at the
wrong time on the
wrong day.
I make them.
I run with them.
I own them.
the World of photo chemicals that smell like cat urine and light meters and noisey shadows.
It's mine.
I don't believe in beauty. I believe in tricks of the light and positioning and bw v color fstop 1/60 shutter holga on 12 with a fisheye some Rembrandt with a diffused fill lightset the camera timer check speed film speed hours and hours gone by Photoshop and Instagram and color film pentax kx bleach toned hand colored with silver pencil oil painted pink line line it's all about the line and the shadow the shadow and the color don't forget about the color never forget about the color.
my World is Light. my Language is Light. between imperfect skin and hair and height and hips and chest beauty doesn't exist. it's a myth and a trick of the light and because the light is my world so is thus beauty my world.
In my pictures.