A footprint is a sign; a handprint is a message.
This one says: I choose transparency because that’s the best way to hide.
Solitude is a salt lake with five inlets.
Sand can return to stone, but can glass ever return to sand?
My hand was so thick, I couldn’t see the fog in front of me.
Ice is a form of immobility that doesn’t keep. By the time I got my photos of the ice storm home & took them out of my camera, they had already lost almost all their glitter.
When the sky falls, it clings to everything. Trees snap with the weight of it. Beauty is best kept at arm’s length.
If it weren’t for wonder, I might have to go make something of myself.
Trees in the winter aren’t sleeping; they’re procrastinating.
Always remember that nature is out to kill you.
Inspired by the posts at the communal self-portrait site Autography (tagline: “Self-Portrait as Story”).