architects

meet my brother, eric. he is five years older than me and in five days he will be moving to seattle for a shiny new job! i am really very excited for him, and in the city he will have all his rainy humdrum days to himself, but (as i sit in his apartment and write this) already i know that i will miss him when he is gone. everyone round me is swiftly scattering to their place, and i find myself wandering without any semblance of certainty or foresight.


this is my brother's volvo 850 turbo; he keeps it glassy and bright all the time. here, he is working in our garage at home. when i was just a little younger i used to finish my homework at two or three or four in the morning -- junior year of high school was really a beating, i remember -- and i would slip out barefooted into the driveway and doze in the passenger seat of my brother's car, music blearing and an autumn night's chill.

for some time and lately in particular, i have been pondering with childlike blitheness and naivety my current circumstances: how it came about that i am doing what i now do, and my desire for the most absurd way forward i could have chosen. is it strange that i revere mike brodie's photography and his accompanying itinerant philosophy, and that i want to do exactly what the polaroid kidd does at present? i will not even endeavor to think of what my parents would say to that. anyway, i am forcing myself a little painfully through school -- i've three years left at most -- and it has proven very difficult to elicit any great degree of concern for the remainder of my formal education.

these things do not worry me, really. if he has not yet abandoned me to the swallowing night, i have wholly left god behind in that curious thing of my past -- but even so, i have great faith in goodness and in the engineering of my own fortune. i refuse to settle down, because i've my closest friends and my camera and pockets full of film and the innocence of being young, and what more could possibly be of want? i do not know. the window during which the world opens its womb for your wandering -- and while you are just beginning to be a real person in all its realisations -- is so very small, and i am not going to miss it.

so, these are the things i have come to understand outside the hindrances of school since i have come to austin. i was not always ridiculous and unreasonable, but it is incredible fun.

epoch

this is me and dustin and caitlin, shot by allison. we will all be too far away from each other much too soon, but summer calls for spontaneity and roadtrips and loves, as it should.

sunshine saviours and blush night. summer has not even really begun in earnest, and it promises unequivocal adventure and mishap already. in the meanwhile, i've a paper due in t-minus three hours and fifteen minutes, and i don't see how i could possibly write anything of use now. shit!

p.s., i got my black and white roll of 120 from marleyfest back from precision and it is damn good. not too shabby for a first run with my kowa six. fucking sweet.

no saviours

this is scout niblett playing one of my favorites, will you be buried with my people? these are some the most remarkable words ever when in the end she sings, but who the hell knows which way the gods may pull us tomorrow? cause honey, we're writing our past right now, and fear will only beckon sorrow.

fuck.

among my favorite words also are these, sung by why: this goes out to dirty dancing, cursing, back-masking, back-slitting pranksters, kids. as all this earth grows i'm planted, that's some pull. in berlin i saw two men fuck in the dark corner of a basketball court, just a slight jangle of pocket change pulsing.

how dark and casual and fucking amazing is that?

and so, i have decided that you are a false messiah. until you find me in the manner in which i found you, i will wait impatiently and sighing.

no lovers

caitlin with pomellos and skirts and skies amidst a rooftop picnic.


alex with magnificent afro and sunglasses, jovially carved pillar.


alex and ngan. love is watching, love is watching someone die.


taylor and dustin, vodka night and sharpie. debauchery is my favorite!


dustin and me, strange faces and bare bellies, rolling rock.


alex and his friend malcolm x, hanging out by the lounge with us.


aaron and me, feets and rocks, screaming bridge and trinity banks.


daily texan meeting, chris and peter, blue bras in the prather lobby.


caitlin and a camera, a little bit of heaven and looking glass of god.

i don't know what this means.

disappear

oh, friend.
i love you.
i love you.
i love you.

sins and redemptions

shit! sleep is so badly in want, but that is really very insignificant because i am going to a secret show tonight, where exactly i do not know but i will find out soon enough i am sure. lately and today in particular, i am being retardedly ridiculous and i refuse to stop it. this is the most fun, anyway. this is the carefree society.

we are our own redemption.

fight!

everyone looks absolutely soaking wet and happy here.


me and taylor, making up after the epic battle. i jumped to dodge a balloon meant for me, managed to land squarely on a trash can, and smashed open my holga. consequently, these are a little bit murky, but i don't suppose that matters. these things inevitably happen in such battles.

so, we had a water balloon fight in denton. when caitlin and i arrived in the morning we obtained sandwiches with her friend nathan and had lunch in a sunny green by the art building, and sprawled on the grass afterwards and talked about everything that did not matter. when we went to peer round the corner to see what a very loud ruckus was about, we discovered a honk for peace war protest and also taylor. so we all set out together and found sarah doty and mostly sat around with cloves and english ovals and menthols in the smoking corner, and then walked to the dollar store where we purchased water balloons. the fight was a mess, everyone for themselves, and dripping smothering hugs afterwards.

this particular weekend was a little bit amazing.