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I used to think photography was a pointless art form, frivolous and purely aesthetic. But now I feel like I can transpose myself onto every image. How I frame my photograph depends on my thoughts, the settings I chose on my camera depends on my ideas. And there are endless combinations and permutations. Last night E and I took photos from the roof of our apartment building. We took many of the "same shots" with the same camera, yet her photos distinctly represented her personality and my photos mine. I can't wait to go back to India in December and take thousands upon thousands of photos. I love the feeling of art affecting me while I affect art. My own art, not necessarily anything that anyone else has to like, but something that reflects upon some deeper part of my soul.
Any furc people out there?
I wonder where everyone went from my past online life. Care to reconnect and say hello, or have you all vanished into the real world like I have?
Road Trip
The one who lives is the driver. There are approximately 6.5 billion drivers on earth, and there is lifelong road trip ahead for each one.
A lot of time is spent establishing the separation between what is inside the vehicle and what is outside. This is a very important distinction and will profoundly affect both the quality of the journey and its direction. Who stays in the car with you? Who whizzes past or jumps out? Sometimes the driver must wonder if he is whizzing past them or the other way around.
Sometimes the driver has to turn on the air conditioning. Heat, of course, indicates passion, anger, hatred. More important than the emotio
spring wanderlust
feel the warm breeze in my hair after the thaw
cross into the brotherhood
burn away a hot humid day at the jersey shore
dance to great beats while sipping bacardi
go to paris monaco and venice and antarctica
find a new hip restaurant in new york
make friends with an unlikely person
traipse around central park barefoot
blast the radio and sing at the top of my lungs
return to india with dreams of saving the world
develop a new philosophy on life
write the perfect novella
wear airy flowery delicate skirts
climb a mountain enjoy the view
turn off my blackberry
take a drive down south holland road
learn how to play the piano the v
like a southbound train
Headed down south to the land of the pines
And I'm thumbin' my way into North Caroline
Starin' up the road
And pray to God I see headlights
I made it down the coast in seventeen hours
Pickin' me a bouquet of dogwood flowers
And I'm a hopin' for Raleigh
I can see my baby tonight
So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama anyway you feel
Hey mama rock me
Rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a south-bound train
Hey mama rock me
Runnin' from the cold up in New England
I was born to be a fiddler in an old-time stringband
My baby plays the guitar
I pick a banjo now
Oh, the North country winters keep a get
© 2010 - 2024 sarsgaard
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