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Posts tagged ‘Eastern Oregon Homestead photos’

No Entires Could Empty

Something from a late October. I remember this. Peering at feeling, a slow pulse. Not getting close, shooting at seventy five. Casual stuff. Nothing abnormal. Last twenty minutes of light. Friction of breeze tangled in sage, a low glow coupled with the wanting of a fire horizon, the hopes of something along those lines, which never occurred. Haunts or the happening of, or maybe it was both, luring in the curious eye. It was the opening scene, aiming through worn existence, a forgotten entrance. It was a kind of reckless, but still had this mood, although I’m not sure which mood. I remember thinking, with key of importance, the atmosphere was carved in mood. That was the scene. Within that cloud of mood (and again I’m not sure which mood, maybe it’s supposed to stay that way), I had found a pulse. 

©PE Adjusted

So it’s not entirely empty.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number 107…

Here is Day Number 107…

Adjusted107May not be much, but I’m gonna be honest about this shot. I had a ton of crap around me. Literally surrounding both sides of me. Warped beams overhead, draped and bowed, brushing my beanie. I would adjust myself, take a step back, and the floor would creak and adjust itself. Not a very stable environment, kind of like the guy behind the camera. One of my flashes was in a rough situation. I spotted several nails, mini land mines. And the breeze, howling through every crack and crevice, like some kind of haunted thing coming to get me. Too bad ghosts are phony bologna. And that glass pane on the front door, it’s original.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number 47…

Here Is Day Number 47… 

Adjusted47Sneak Peak along Dusks Highways.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number Nineteen

Here is Day Number Nineteen… 

Adjusted19A Better Place To Play. 

Adjusted19.2 Sleep all day.

No Post Code Envy

PaintingAlmost a painting. Almost.

365 Days of Flash Photography, With Day Number Eighteen

Here is Day Number Eighteen…


The Lookout.

Home is where the…