Atlas | Feather Files

Tread lightly. Seek no direction.

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🌿

iPhone, 2016

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Casa de Quinn, 2016

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Keep.Moving. iPhone, 2016

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Heavy make-up, Lids slung low. Eyes half-closed, To mask the shared experiences Of life, unfulfilled. While hazel-greys, Stare wide at ink on skin. Waiting for the last round to settle in, So the words might flow freely, To mask the naivety, Of life, under-lived. Lie to me, So I might breathe it in, And sling lids low. As not to contrast, The colors, Of my porcelain, freckled shell, To your permanently inked-up hull. Between your fingers, I will crack. Hairline fissures in a sand dollar. As morning seeps in through heavy curtain, Pry me open to take what you can. And drive me home today, So tonight, We can start again.

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Lonerism

Buffalo Central Terminal, 2016

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Within a Frame.

Buffalo Central Terminal, 2016

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I’m into negative effects lately. 

Buffalo Central Terminal, 2016

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Where’s Waldo? 

Buffalo Central Terminal, 2016

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Tbt to this sucker. It’s not perfect, but I love it. Thanks, Kara Foote

Graduation Dances, 2014

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Self observations:

I'm so concerned about getting things done quickly that I spend all my time tying to make snap decisions and don't often get anything done. Slow down. Come back.

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Gaping

Dermis

iPhone, 2016

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Invisibility. You don’t want to breathe it in, But wish it would never end.

What is body? What is self? It doesn’t matter, It doesn’t matter. How long can you hold your breath?

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For everyone of us, living in this world means waiting for our end

Beowulf, Seamus Heaney translation

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Kitchen Dances, 2015

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Black//White

Kitchen Dances, 2015

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Your technology got in my shot. 

Kitchen Dances, 2015

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now you//now you don’t. 

Kitchen Dances, 2015