Cosimo Galluzzi
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
will byers stan first human second

if i look back, i am lost
d e v o n
🪼

blake kathryn
RMH

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pixel skylines
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
styofa doing anything
todays bird
Monterey Bay Aquarium
$LAYYYTER

★
Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@digitalphotopicturinghome
Gory Plaster Figurine by Blake Bevans
Rachel stumbled upon a macabre discovery. Her fingers brushed against a tiny figurine, a grotesque bust of a man, imprisoned within its own torment. Puff fabric paint coated the figure’s arms, resembling oozing blood that sent shivers down Rachel’s spine.
Intrigued by the eerie allure of the figurine, a sinister energy permeated the air, suffocating her every breath. The figurine’s pained expression, with its glittered hair and purple-painted beard, seemed to come alive, its screams echoing in Rachel’s nightmares. Behind the cursed figurine hung an imposing abstract painting, a chaotic blend of fabric puff paints, iridescent acrylics, and ethereal materials. The twisted combination of fabrics, holographic plastic, and tulle created a disconcerting backdrop, an otherworldly portal for something sinister to emerge.
Suddenly and without warning, the figurine fell to pieces, its shattered fragments releasing a blood-curdling wail, before dissipating into nothingness. Odorless speckles flew out of the statue, as the dust settled, Rachel surveyed the remnants of her ordeal. The abstract painting, once a portal to darkness, now exuded an eerie calmness. The green lighting gradually faded, restoring the space to its former natural state. She had gotten help from something beyond this realm, and she felt it. She sighed, smiled and kicked a piece of plaster and walked out.
The Unseen Depth
In the vibrant chaos of my parents' annual company party, amidst the buzz of laughter and clinking glasses, sat my Grandma Marilyn. She occupied the head of the table, a solitary figure amidst the sea of couples and colleagues. This was her world, a world where she had spent years as the company's secretary, often seen as the lazy and crotchety lady in the office.
Dressed in an 80's sweater that hugged her frame, her short, voluminous curly hair framed her face. The party's atmosphere clashed with her reserved demeanor, creating a stark contrast that was difficult to ignore. She was a widow, having lost my grandpa years ago, and now she navigated life alone.
The photograph captured her presence, her face hidden, as she peered out across the crowded restaurant. Her gaze conveyed a certain yearning, an unspoken desire to be seen and heard, to break free from the confines that life had imposed upon her. Though her face remained unseen, the longing in her eyes spoke volumes.
At the table, where everyone was coupled off, Grandma Marilyn found herself alone. The absence of a companion emphasized her isolation, a reminder of the love and connection she had lost. Yet, it was not just the physical absence of a partner that defined her solitude. It was the absence of opportunities, both from herself and from others, to express her more extroverted self, to showcase the depth and vibrancy that lay beneath her reserved exterior.
Throughout her life, she had been typecast as the grumpy secretary, the woman who kept her thoughts to herself and rarely showed her true colors. But there was more to her than met the eye. Behind her quiet façade, she possessed an inner world of dreams, desires, and untold stories that yearned for release.
As I studied the photograph, my heart ached for the unspoken struggles Grandma Marilyn endured, the layers of complexity that remained hidden from the outside world. I wondered about the moments she longed to share, the words left unspoken, and the vibrant personality locked away behind her reserved demeanor.
In that single captured moment, Grandma Marilyn became more than just a figure in the background. She became a symbol of untapped potential, a reminder that we often judge others based on surface appearances without delving into the depths of their souls.
This photograph, taken at a crowded company party, served as a poignant reminder of the complexities of human existence. It urged me to look beyond the surface, to recognize the untold stories and unexpressed yearnings that reside within each person. And as I reflected on Grandma Marilyn's unseen depth, I made a silent promise to myself to seek the hidden narratives of those around me, to give voice to the quiet ones and to honor the vibrant souls who often go unnoticed.
The Solitary Table
In a bustling restaurant filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and lively conversations, an older lady sat at the head of a long table. The room was adorned with warm, dimmed lights and the air was thick with laughter and the aroma of delicious food. But amidst the joyous chaos, she seemed to be an island of solitude.
Her poofy 80's-style hair and vibrant sweater hinted at a bygone era, contrasting with the contemporary scene unfolding around her. As she sat alone, her face obscured from view, her eyes gazed out across the expanse of the social abyss before her.
Couples and groups of friends surrounded her, their animated conversations intertwining with each other. But for the woman, their laughter and camaraderie served as a reminder of her own isolation in the midst of a crowd. The vacant seat next to her highlighted the absence of a companion, a stark contrast to the pairs and groups who filled the remaining seats.
Was she a victim of circumstance, left alone due to unforeseen circumstances? Or did she choose solitude, finding solace in her own company amidst the chaos? The answer remained hidden beneath her unseen expression, locked away in the depths of her heart.
Yet, in her gaze, there was a certain strength, a quiet resilience that spoke volumes. As she observed the swirling sea of faces and animated conversations, her eyes held a hint of wisdom. Perhaps she had experienced the highs and lows of life, knowing that moments of solitude can also be a sanctuary for self-reflection and introspection.
She remained an enigmatic figure, an observer at the edge of the lively gathering. The world buzzed around her, but she embraced her own stillness. And in that moment, as she looked out across the social abyss, the crowded restaurant became a canvas for the stories of countless lives, all woven together in a tapestry of shared experiences.
In her solitude, she found a silent strength, reminding herself that being alone did not equate to loneliness. For within the depths of her own being, she carried a universe of thoughts, memories, and dreams. And as the din of the restaurant continued to fade into the background, she embraced the power of her own company, finding solace in the richness of her inner world.
The photograph captured a single moment in time, freezing the lady's presence amidst the whirlwind of social connection. It invited viewers to contemplate the complexities of human existence, the delicate balance between solitude and companionship, and the strength that can be found in the quiet corners of one's own mind.
And so, the lady sat at the head of the table, her face hidden, but her spirit unyielding. She became a symbol of resilience, an embodiment of the human capacity to find solace even in the midst of a crowded world, forever etched in the photograph's frame, her story open to interpretation by those who dared to look beyond the surface.
week 3 journal #2
Postmodernism often challenges traditional narratives and explores the boundaries between reality and fiction. In the context of Gallasi's curatorial project, he explores the domestic space as a site of both pleasure and terror, examining the complexities and contradictions of everyday life.
The concept of staged narratives, as mentioned in Gallasi's quote, suggests that photography can delve into the subconscious and capture psychological aspects of individuals. By staging scenes and using the photographic medium to convey deeper emotions and personal narratives, artists like Frey and diCorcia explore the complexities of human psychology and invite viewers to reflect on their own experiences.
The idea presented by Sharon Rup about finding excitement in the subtle turnings and events of everyday life can certainly resonate today. In an age where social media platforms like Instagram often encourage the portrayal of a curated, idealized version of life, there is still a place for capturing the authenticity and nuances of ordinary moments. By embracing imperfections and complexities, one can challenge the pressure for perfection and present a more genuine representation of daily life.
Journey around my room.
A Journey Round my Room by Xavier De Maistre
De Maistre was forced to stay in his room as punishment. He optimistically turned it into a writing exercise akin to travel books. He explains how his room journey is “sheltered” from jealousy of others and “independent of Fortune.” There is no comparing of who’s objects are shiniest. The comparisons of our lives and material possessions can be plaguing and dominate the daily stream of consciousness- the solitude of one’s home can provide escape from societal inferiority complexes. De Maistre describes texturally and in extreme detail the corners of his bedroom.
MelanEnvy