I told you.

She gives REALLY good eyeball.

Critters.

You can lead a Prairie Dog to water.

But will he drink?

i loves the critters.

the furry variety.

no bitey snakes, or creepy spiders or squirmy amphibious types need apply here.

umm...ew?

yes.
see...i don't just take pictures of PEOPLE'S eyeballs.

i'm indiscriminate when it comes to eyeballs.

(except for the aforementioned reptilian, arachnidian, amphibious creepy crawlies. they can keep their eyeballs to themselves ThankYouVeryMuch.)

this horse is named....umm....uhh.....Horse.

Meet Abbott and Costello.

they are hilarious, just like their namesakes.

mostly because one's Hearty and Low to the Land and the other is Tall and Willowy just like Nicole Kidman.

and they think if they stand still enough, you won't see them.

but sometimes you gotta hang out with a Franciscan Monk or two for Real Camoflage.

these were taken at Jackalope in Santa Fe, NM.

Know what this is?

THIS is a Durn Good Donkey.

Durn Good.

I have no idea what real purpose he serves, but everyone always says, "He's a Durn Good Donkey."

I'll take their word for it.

he looks like premium Donkey Product to me.

Gawd i LUUUUV texas.

This is my 16 year old brother's dog Bo.

Bo is cross-eyed.

Bo is also tethered to the roof of the Porch off of my dad's trailer house.

There is a joke that says,

"if your front porch collapses and kills more than 3 dogs, you might be a redneck."

well ha ha. Have a gooooooooooood laugh.

'cause ours is tied to the roof!!!

Southern Ingenuity at it's finest, Ladies and Criminals.

This is my brother's horse Pato.

Pato is Spanish for Duck.

He's a bit of a close talker, that one.

Horse.

Duck.

I think he's the reincarnation of a Jewish Grandma.

what's spanish for that?

Marj. The Final Frontier....Well actually it's her backside...but you get the idea.

this is the last installment of Marj and the ee cummings poem. if you are unfamiliar with what i'm talking about go look here. and here. and here.


i've been a little obsessed.

i know.

i've also just really wanted to turn out something wonderful from this shoot.

and i'm happy with what i've been given.


now on to new projects!

I Can't Let Go of e.e. cummings.

Yeah.

i likes it.

she doesn't look real to me.

that works.

thanks Kimmer.

i owe you a sweater and an all night game of KSO.

*MWAH*

the others are here and here.

Ain't That America.

Fourth of July.

red, white and blue and potato salad and sunscreen.

maybe a blow-up pool.

america.

oh how we show that we love you.

whatever.

this is how our trip home from idaho started out:

We couldn't have asked for better weather for the weekend of the 4th.

Coer d'Alene, Idaho.

Perfect for taking a dip in the lake, cruising in the boat and just taking it easy.

*sigh*

The Life.

But it's true that all good things must indeed come to an end, so we packed the car and headed for the City; just a hop, skip and a jump across the state of Washington, over the columbia river, through the cascades to our Home Sweet Seattle.

(But not before we made a detour to the Rez to purchase discount illegal fireworks and reasonably priced tobacco products. C'mon! it's IDAHO!)

The sky was beautiful, the sun was shining, until somewhere outside Ritzville, WA we ran into this:

A thunderstorm moving in.

if you've never been to ritzville, WA, don't take it too hard.

it's huge plains of dirt. it's not unlike West Texas in that way.

piles of dirt.

some would call it a "featureless landscape".....

.....except for the grain elevators. They're a "feature", eh?

anyway.

this storm was moving in all big and dark and grumbly, throwing it's wind around like it was really going to tear that "featureless landscape" all to shit.

go back and look at that picture.

no really.

GO BACK.

*waiting*

the black skies....the dirt kicking up.

it looks serious.

that wind was crazy.


4 drops of rain.

that's it.

a couple of tumbleweeds attacked the car.

that was exciting.

and then we were in Ritzville proper.

which is mostly a lot of these:

There was a sidewalk sale outside this auto repair place.

they had a couple of acoustic guitars sitting there so we pulled over.

i wish i could have taken a picture of that scene.

the Strangest People I Have Ever Seen. (well...maybe not, but WOW anyway!)

there was a biker dude that looked like Dog the Bounty Hunter, his toothless wife and what appeared to be a daughter who was sitting on an old couch, wearing a lingerie corset (mind you, not a tiny girl) and holding an extra-thick chain leash, at the end of which was the gnarliest Pit Bull i've ever seen. all growly and slobbery and.... Hungry.....he definitely appeared Hungry.....

And he's jerking on this chain and the Langouring Lugubrious Lusciously Lingerie-Clad Daughter doesn't bat an eyelid and never wanes from her mournful expression.

they wanted $100 bucks for this "meh" acoustic guitar.

We left.

god i wanted a picture.

patrick later suggested that i might have pretended to take a picture of him while he was eyeing their wares and surreptitiously taken the picture of Luscious and her pooch.

FAT LOT OF GOOD THAT DOES ME NOW, PAT-TRICK! (i say, secretly wishing i'd thought of such a brilliant scheme. then i'd have evidence of La Familia Creeptastico in all their glory.)

But alas, it was not to be.

all you get instead is my wordy, mildy entertaining recounting of my encounter with said family.

oh yeah....

and the really nice sunset we drove into as we hit the Cascades.

enjoy.

Tiny Dancer.

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile,
you'll marry a music man

Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums

But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you, and you can hear me
When I say softly, slowly

chorus
Hold me closer Tiny Dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
You had a busy day today.

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand

And now she's in me, always with me,
Tiny dancer in my hand

chorus
Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
you had a busy day today

[repeat chorus]
But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you, and you can hear me
When I say softly, slowly

[repeat chorus]

[repeat chorus]

Lyrics by Bernie Taupin

Marj. Part II.

Another from the e.e. cummings poem "between the breasts".

i had initially envisioned several women with stanzas of the poem written on a different part of each woman's body and then bringing the pieces together to form a Frankenwoman or (as i prefer) Everywoman.

it hasn't really worked out that way, so i'm just enjoying each piece separately.

part of being an accidental photographer is never having your visions manifest themselves in the way you saw them in your head.

conversely....there are a lot of beautiful "accidents" that surface.

i am vigilantly passionate about women's issues, especially body image and even moreso, the influence of men on how women perceive themselves and allow their bodies to be used or abused by men and even themselves.

i'm not blaming men. and i'm no man-hater.

after all, we teach others how to treat us.

dont' we?

Endless Summer Part Deux

The three photos in this entry are actually individual parts of a single photograph that can be seen here.

I like triptychs.

i also like the idea of examining the smaller parts of the whole up close and personal.

i really love these three pieces. talk about accidental!!!!

now if i could only figure out what the hell i'm going to show next month!!!

shit.