shadow

I'm overflowing as well as being hollow; 

this last photo, though terribly edited (i like the look to be honest) sums up all of these photos. 

i am blank

for the record

Taking photos frees me.

a record an old friend bought for me from an op shop. it's split now and i hang it on my wall

as the sun drooped lower i adjusted my camera. grainy photos are my favourite

Today while in the back paddock, the kids of a house a few up from mine were playing in their yard. They yelled, laughed, screamed and their parents spoke on the stairs, watching over them. While taking photos of myself, I suddenly heard 'it's a camera!'. One kid had climbed up the fence and was staring at me. A few moments later, two of his friends had joined him. I waved at them but they ignored me. 'It's a camera, look! She's taking photos!' the first boy said, yelling excitedly to his parents as well. Then, matter-of-factly he concluded 'she's a picture lady.' 

They hung over the fence for the next ten minutes while I took photos of myself, then called 'bye' when I packed up. I've never had an audience before. 

you've lost your muchness

Sometimes I see my mind like a canvas with each thought tattooed against; stacked millions high upon each other and as a new idea creeps inside, an old one is lost underneath a tidal wave of ink. There is so much ink that it creates an ocean and it hums of poetry and whispers teenage angst. Words are everything. They swim through my veins and reside behind my eyes. They create me; I am words.
To read a book will soothe me; just being surrounded by dozens of spines stood side by side is enough. My room homes bookcases and shelves flowing over with books, accumulated over the years as gifts, chosen from book fairs by attire or borrowed from the bookshop which I worked in for little over a year. Many remain unread due to lack of time and concentration.

These photos are unfinished sentences and undotted i's.

intentional terrible editing