North Bend Nadine – 12/27/18

Shoot with Nadine in North Bend, Washington, the other day. Not the snowy Winter photos we were looking for, but I think they turned out great.

Hunter Portrait Shoot – 11/16/18

Portrait shoot with Hunter Gilbert the other day. This one was at Wright Park, an arboretum out in Tacoma. Another very autumnal shoot, only slightly offset by the wintery clothing. The flannel did quite a bit to dissuade that idea.

The Helios 40-2 is showing itself in the very swirly pictures again, with the hang of its center focus still being a bit to get used to. Still had a bunch of fun out and about. Thanks again for humoring me, Hunter!

Grace Dahl Portrait Shoot – 11/10/18

Fun shoot with Grace Dahl the other day. It helped how much of a natural she seemed at being in front of the camera, and I got an earnest chance to try out that Helios 40-2. Very nice, chilly, transitional weather in Puyallup gave some fantastic natural light, so I got to use the most of my aperture. With autumn quickly becoming winter, the skies were clear, and the ground was awash in orange.

Panic

It’s not about the shot
It’s about the journey

Every riverbank trail
Every cold clearing
That fades
Into forest

Fog lying low
Brisk noontime throe

Looking into the sky
Being stared back at
By abyssal
Overcast

Why has this
Come to pass?

Looking back
At the
Mountain pass

Did these rocks and trees
Grow here to fear me?
Roots in the riverbeds
Turned to driftwood clay

This pass will know
My veiled face

Pathfinder’s tracks
In this place
Stay stratified
Where they’re made

Dug up dirt
Trembles before
This spirit
Of frostbite

Steps rift
Frozen soil

Eating away
At this wintry domain
In misted isolation
Alone in havoc action

Lungs shocked
By sub-zero air
Blood sluggish
Lashes shot

Each moment a panic
An otherworld

Each shot
A viscous copper
As the hills
Pass over me

Following the trail
Left behind
By my
Quarry

Can see stoic moss
Trampled upon

Branches snapped
In haste

I will not make
Its same mistakes

Its blood on my blade
My bite will soon taste

The pass quivers again
Knowing I am here
I trespass, yet this
Mountain should fear

A spectre of cold blood
Floating over steps
Of a misnomer prey
Fleeing

An abyssal monster
The size of man

Stalking among
The overcast day

The Fall

Pine needles
Lying dead on the ground
Aren’t forlorn
For the loss of themselves

Are the buds next spring
Harboring the same souls
As those decaying into
Dry spears down below?

Is this why
They do not fear the fall?

Blue February

There’s an alarm clock in my head
Going off and I can’t reach the
Button up on top to shut it
Up and go back to bed for just

A few more minutes

Drowning out all the other sounds
From my waking dreams and
Narcoleptic tendecies telling me
It’s time to open my eyes and

Wake up to face the sky

But I’m so mad and frustrated
That I can’t even see straight
And this rest has been so pleasant
That I want to still be asleep

Laying in that lush meadow

For hours at a time idling
Myself with lonely thoughts
Just to make the passage of time
Seem all the quicker to incarceration

That I won’t ever get out from

Because those dreams I’m keen to
Have been so heavenly and their
Hospitality to this thought felon
Has been quite nice indeed

Maybe I should get up and thank them

But I can’t get out of bed
Can’t escape this dreamland
I fear that I’m digging a hole
Just to put a mattress in it

Like I can’t sleep any other way

It’s like I need to be under attack
Or passed out, drained, from
Digging all day to feel like I’ve
Earned a couple hours of rest

So when I wake I don’t want to leave

It means I have to make my bed
Means I’ve got to say my last goodbyes
To all the people I met in the night
And all the places they showed me

While only distant suns brought light

Not that waking life is any different
Or really all that bad
I simply lack the motivation
To not lay in bed feeling sad

So drained, after such long days

Wishing I lived in Spring always
When clouds break a little bit
Letting light shine through the
Winter bleak and daze, I’m parched

But in Winter it seldom comes

And I can lie and say that the season
Did this to me on this red Thursday
In early March, it’s really what I
Haven’t done that’s made this urge

To make a sun when I need to

To shut that alarm clock in my head
Off
And get some really strong
Coffee to drink

To be the red sun rising and never set

I need to
Get out
Of
Bed

Seasoning

We say night is so
Sweet
Yet where else do we
Miss

Being able to see
Autumn and winter
More?

I will always trade in
City lights
For a single tree
Colored with fire

Better than the black
Nighttime delivers
I love more the
Ash laid to gutters

Dead leaves
More wonderful
Than these
Clockwork streets

Night strikes every day
But the best seasons
Only have half a year
That I can see

Still night infects
November’s time

But I love to see the breeze
Cold as can be but
By the frozen sun
I can see the quiet trees

September Sky

Sun’s hanging low
Air’s cooling off

Seasons are shifting
And the summer is lifting
Fall is falling
Wind begins wailing

Leaves gather
On the sidewalks
Kicking up with
Feet chasing deeds

Things to do
Now that it’s cold
Outside on the street
And warm inside

It’s time to open
Windows while we sleep
And wear three
Jackets when we walk

Cavalry to crunching
Dead tree leaves

Uniform in orange
Red and yellow

Brown in bark and woe
In the gutters
When the breeze
Picks up and leaves

Partly cloudy
Where sunlight and
Shadow battle
For supremacy

And where is shade
There is respite
Even in early morning
Frost’s bite

In the September sky
We celebrate
As the sun leaves
And leaves fall