What a strange vintage we are. Constantly needing to photograph each thing, each moment. What other species demands to self archive everything? The same information, experiences, places visually captured over and over again.
What do we expect to learn from it; from taking a picture of it all?
Jul 6, 2007
Commando
In Sheep Meadow, A skirt clad buxom blond lay casually upon the soft green grass.
Wandering eyes moved up her unfastened legs, Into the depths of an open skirt.
Meeting no colored cotton, rayon, or silk within, The ogle averted in amused shock.
1 comment:
Well, people do come to New York to see the sights, after all. Why not one more?
Post a Comment