Colors Of The Rain

shimmering spattering words like drops from the big sky

[langerado]

Easter, Woodford County, KY, 2025

[langerado]

Tee Dee Young, Lexington, KY 3/10/2025

[langerado]

Saint & Sinner

[langerado]

Sylvia’s Little Red Hen is an oasis.

Seattle, Washington, 2023

[langerado]

Crooked Grind, Louisville skate park, Louisville KY, July 26, 2018

[langerado]

Seattle, August 2022

I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

[langerado]

Louisiana, December, 2021

"The image of the South, in all its complexity, is so powerful in us that it is a force which has to be encountered and engaged. The writer must wrestle with it, like Jacob with the angel, until he has extracted a blessing" -Flannery O'Connor

[langerado]

Have a Blessed Lent

[langerado]

Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NYC, 2023

“As long as love is “blind” - that is, as long as it does not see a whole being - it does not yet truly stand under the basic word of relation. Hatred remains blind by its very nature; one can hate only part of a being.” ― Martin Buber, I and Thou

[langerado]

Utah, 2023

[langerado]

Trinity Church, NYC, 2023

[langerado]

Seattle, Monorail Murals, Brady Black, August 2023

“What strange phenomena we find in a great city, all we need do is stroll about with our eyes open. Life swarms with innocent monsters”

Charles Baudelaire

[langerado]

Seattle Monorail, 2022

“A monorail, a monorail, a monorail, the future is here today!”

[langerado]

Candi Jenkins, Lexington, KY, 2/27/2025

Go see her at SXSW in a couple weeks

[langerado]

Lucy, Her Highness

[langerado]

In the desert

I saw a creature, naked, bestial,

Who, squatting upon the ground,

Held his heart in his hands,

And ate of it.

I said, “Is it good, friend?”

“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it

“Because it is bitter,

“And because it is my heart.”

Stephen Crane, 1895

[langerado]

A single thread of fireworks exploded in the empty streets,

Two voices rose, their shouts sharp with anticipation.

Like a candle flickering in a cavern, the hollow silence

Roared louder than the bursting light.

Not a cry of patriotic glee,

But a celebration of a King who came to set them free—

Not from fate, nor from the weight of past transgressions,

But from enemies, both real and imagined.

I watched from the upstairs window,

Alone, as I whispered a sorrowful prayer into the night.

Langeradosoul, 2025