| The wheat is lifted, bent back like a trapdoor, a searching, sweet reek of the past: the paths--wet sticks poked into a fire-- hunter's bread, howl of flowers, the earth red where the angelus bell is buried: bright sorrow, light rattling on the crooked stairway to the cloud-orchard, that wheat, dependable chaos, ripening, Figured I'd put it here for now, cause, I got featured in $spinegrinder's Cutting Edge Prints article for the week. (SO HAPPY) |











Welcome and I hope to see your submissions in the future.
=druideye
Pamela
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Camera Whore Photographer's Club.
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"I will be the one to watch you fall, so I came down to crash and burn your beggars banquet".
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*Life is like Photography - You use the Negatives to Develop*
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"I will be the one to watch you fall, so I came down to crash and burn your beggars banquet".
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