Stowaways

November winds are deep shades of blue and brown,
in them we stowaway
 to lands far off.
In search of warmth for trembling hands.

(kodak ektar)

Chapter 6: Portobello

 Portobello Road was some sort of dream.
I didn't prefer London,
except this small corner that was laden with old things,
a valley of clocks and jewels,
 rusty forgotten relics of humanity.
Whose to say what hands have held them
and which have passed,
buried and bygone.

(black and white kodak film)

Carnivals

Soaked film from various carnivals I have been attending.
Spending so much time abroad has began within me
some kind of search to find what is America,
What I discovered so far is color, and sound, and strangeness.

Travels Chapter 5: elle rêvait

 Film from Paris I developed quite recently, 

from my last wander in the city,

soaked before development.

I conquered an array of rooftops this day, a mild afternoon,

scaling the clouds at summers end,

alone and aloft in the world, as sometimes one is.

I've been leafing through the body of work from my these travels, 

 everything seems to be violet,

something indigo about my experience.