that time

I make photos and other visual art. Mostly digital. Some analog. Some both.

He steps off the path and into the trees, carefully stepping around briars and broken branches. He continues until he finds a small clearing. He looks back to be sure it’s far enough from the trail to be safe – to be unseen.

What's the reverse (inverse?) of a Content Warning? This is a "You Should Not be Triggered Warning.

I considered printing this and burning the pages, but since throwing things away has been one of my pathologies, I am instead going to keep working on it, and eventually perform it, although I have no idea where, when, or in what form. Maybe I'll make a video...

another little piece of the story... (this is an addendum to this) i had intended to bring a tarot deck

He was never really lost.

he never spoke to me again. without explanation, i knew how to say the word. pumiquat. it's not what you think. nor what you expect. it's a secret. i've only told you the part that you're allowed to know

xerxes, fried baloney, cleopatra click click, powdered eggs, slimy chicken in #10 cans, the toaster fire, the burnt cabinet, slicing

One of the key symptoms of paranoia is the belief that one is the literal center of the universe. What I mean by that is that the entire world, as far as human perception allows, exists solely for the purpose of tormenting, and ultimately, murdering me.

Could those human bones we dug up that time have been cursed? Could I have been cursed? Could we have been cursed? We put them back, but maybe that didn’t help. I did everything I could to avoid digging up the bones of my assault.

As we wept—my father and I—I wondered if it was for his friend, after all. I wondered if it was for him. I wonder if it was for me.

The original trauma was birth and everthying that follows is but preparation for the trauma of death. Of letting go of all that we have learned. It is only through remembering that we can die because remembering is to forget.