. . . Love is a cliff,
A clear, cold curve of stone, mottled by stars,
smirched by the morning, carved by the dark sea
Till stars and dawn and waves can slash no more,
Till the rock’s heart is found and shaped again.

Sappho by James Wright

Now see these:

• Wordless Wednesday from Dream Tomorrow, Live Today, Cherish Yesterday
• Las dos Torres from Verónica’s Photoblog
• Teatr Dramatyczny from Zjedzkadr
• Bashful from 3 a.m. from Kyoto

Peabody River, near Gorham, New Hampshire; Graflex 4×5 pinhole.

Now see these:

• untitled from shallow greys
• Petite neige sur le Lac Daumesnil from Paris Cool
• White symmetry from maxbelloni
• Dead Tree from Charlene Collins

Peabody River, near Gorham, New Hampshire; Graflex 4×5 pinhole.

Peabody River, near Gorham, New Hampshire; Graflex 4×5 pinhole.

Now see these:

• Swans from Drawn in Light
• Naked Lunch: 1920 from Shorpy
• fog patch from the narrative

Now, in a breath, we’ll burst those gates of gold,
And ransack heaven before our moment fails.
Now, in a breath, before we, too, grow old,
We?ll mount and sing and spread immortal sails.

Immortal Sails by Alfred Noyes

I’m not sure what happened with this picture; it came out of the box of 4×5 sheets that I’m working through from our Maine trip, and it could have met with its dismal fate at several points along the way: from loading to exposing to developing, there are many opportunities for disaster along the perilous pinhole path. But I kind of like it nonetheless; it reminded me a little of Wyeth’s Pentecost, with its suggestion of sails and wind. It’s “mistakes” like these that make the world of slow photography so intriguing–there’s a lot of room for serendipity.

Now see these:

• Through the Fog from Perspective Images
• Tradition? from Richard Vanek
• Grand Ecran from Elaine

Whirl up, sea?
whirl your pointed pines,
splash your great pines
on our rocks,
hurl your green over us,
cover us with your pools of fir.

Oread by H.D.

Reid State Park, Georgetown, Maine. 1912 Graflex pinhole, ~5 minutes’ exposure.

þú þök að fjúka út á brot sjó
. . .
You roofs blow out into the stormy sea

gobbledigook, sigur rós

Reid State Park, Georgetown, Maine. 1912 Graflex pinhole, ~5 minutes’ exposure.

I’ve searched through the hills and I’ve read all the words
Now I reach across time to take hold of your hand

Molly Ockett’s Song, Marge Bruchac

Molly Ockett’s grave, Andover, Maine.

Now see these:

• Primary colours from Aperture First
• untitled from taraville
• Farm Road, 3:50 p.m. from A Walk Through Durham Township

With what deep murmurs through time’s silent stealth
Doth thy transparent, cool, and wat’ry wealth
Here flowing fall,
And chide, and call,
As if his liquid, loose retinue stay’d
Ling’ring, and were of this steep place afraid;
The common pass
Where, clear as glass,
All must descend
Not to an end,
But quicken’d by this deep and rocky grave,
Rise to a longer course more bright and brave.

The Water-fall by Henry Vaughan

Gooseberry Falls, 4×5 Graflex pinhole.

Now see these:

• plaza from myphotosquare
• evening dune from riesenthal
• Newhailes Evening from David Bird

This is what the highways will look like when we’re gone. Graflex pinhole, 4 minute exposure (there were cars on the road, but they were moving much too fast to be seen).

Now see these:

• Autumn Temple from Montmartre
• Loungin’ POV from a view from the 6oh lens
• From the fields of Sk?ne (II) from 365,000 words
• MultiManuela from Jao.K

Gooseberry Falls, Minnesota.

Gooseberry Falls, Minnesota.

Grand Marais, MN.

At the seawall on Artists’ Point, Grand Marais, MN. You can’t tell from these pinhole pictures, but the inland sea of Lake Superior was pretty violent: the waves pounding these rocks were quite impressive. But the pinhole, intrepid and unflappable, sees only the gentle peace of the basalt formations: zen master in a wooden box.

Artists’ Point, Grand Marais, MN.

Entrance to the Grand Marais harbor, as seen from the seawall by Artists’ Point. The odd texture of this photo was caused by a sticky slide on the film holder: I had to jam the slide shut, which caused some wrinkling.

The Spoonbridge (of course) at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, as seen through the f902 pinhole for about 3 minutes. (Note the ghostly figure in the foreground: you have to stand pretty still for the Graflex to notice you…)

Among the Moabites is up now on Pseudopod. You can read the story at Cherry Bleeds, and find other things I’ve written if you’re so inclined.

The Spoonbridge (of course) at the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, as seen through the f902 pinhole for about 3 minutes.

Among the Moabites is up now on Pseudopod; I haven’t heard it yet (we’re heading to Grand Marais this morning, so I probably won’t get a chance to listen until this evening), but I’m sure it’s done with the same panache they bring to all their stories. You can read the story at Cherry Bleeds, and find other things I’ve written if you’re so inclined.

If you like scary stories and weird tales, you ought to be listening to Pseudopod, the horror podcast of the Escape Artists empire (which also includes the new PodCastle fantasy podcast and the venerable Escape Pod science fiction podcast). I’ve been listening for about a year and a half now, and I’ve been thrilled and frightened by brain-eating zombies, vengeful ghosts, and all manner of unsettling demons.

I mention this because an upcoming edition of Pseudopod will be my story “Among the Moabites,” which appeared in Cherry Bleeds last September. It’s a weird little story, and I can’t wait to hear what they do with it.

for a while
I hide under the waterfall
start of the Summer Retreat

Basho