photo by SK

My favorite pictures are often the cold ones and the dry ones, the desolate ones too. The ones of people are great, but I see snow here and feel a certain whimsy. Death puts the momentum of the departed into the world, into the hands on the living. I’m not just talking about the bone here, elk, I’m talking about what keeps we, people, alive. Without the sensed desolation at the loss of a loved one or friend, we’d surely grow too numerous and though we wouldn’t long for the departed, we’d long for this empty field and the room to run it with them in mind. In other words, there wouldn’t be any pause to drain some 40 on the pavement for the homies. Cheers.