Hey there from here. Pick a name, any name, any label, call me play games while I’m on guard listening for a specific bell toll call from somewhere not here or there, what’s up? Is it my number that’s up?
YO Not 1mportant to you! Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. If it’s you, you know who I mean who’s looking for not 1mportant but hit number two from my 3-6-1-2-5-10 rule, you’re no fool not fooling, not that bad. Congrats, you’re in a m1nor1ty while now being a m1nor1ty report daily news spew, if I watched the news that is, but enough of this biz. wink
Moving on like a car tread frosted frozen in a moment snow residue crusted mixed with mud and hints of blue. The ordinary mundane mostly missed that I macro abstract into a textural landscape.
Partial overlapping shoe prints in compressed crystalized snow on concrete. Patterns. Contrasts. Abstraction. A friend who knows my work well couldn’t identify the subject above. I like it when that happens.
Distorting images of myself is a favourite old habit. Gone hobbit like weaving woolly weird in reflections. That scarf I’m wearing in the photo above is an extra-long, double wide infinity scarf I designed and knit five years ago.
Interrupting this photo flow show with a foot woolly insert because someone wanted to know all the shite I’m busy with, so here’s a cell shot photo proof slice of that shite, just for you but not for you, the socks I’m knitting, double knit heels and toes, no poop. You know who you are. wink
Take a close look at that self-portrait shot above the woolly socks saganza. Don't let the wool get in your eyes. Did you miss what’s reflected on the right tucked in the trees? Here’s a closer shot so you can see.
Water in all its forms draws me into it. Stepping in a puddle of a tree partial peek looksee framed hazy in flattened treads of snow slush slumps.
Cotton fluff floating melting refrozen snow ice growing on a puddle tree reflected so dreamy at me.
Sycamore say more bathed in late golden daylight mirrored wet and wondrous against a dark treed sky. I got lost in you as I typically do, far away, up close, macro shooting your textured peeling skin, today’s reflection cuts through my vision. That alone is a landscape I can disappear within.
Step left. Step right. Step over, not in. Shift focus. Say no more Sycamore blurred to gold abstracted mirror washes while water and ice steal the stage.
Late day sunlight mixed with dark pavement went orange gold in blue sky shadows and dark webby tree reaching fingers gonna come getcha.
Just one more note. One spectacular eyeball shot for someone, not 1mportant to you, but not that bad, this last photo’s just for you, note, you know who you are.
WINK
All photos taken by Nine with a Pentax digital 35mm camera and 90mm Tamron macro lens. The SOCKS were designed, knitted, and photographed by Nine with a decrepit cell phone.