After class, I was a few photos short, so I drove down Dixie Dr. to a huge cemetery to complete the project. I figured I'd get a few more trite and cliche headstone shots, but what I came across was pure sorrow... I almost felt guilty taking the pictures, but I kept telling myself I was beautifying and preserving the memorials.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Previous Posts
- She died the year I was born. Twenty seven years ...
- I wish I could've gotten the entire "till we meet ...
- And on my way out, I passed this tiny simple littl...
- Saying goodbye to my former self, casting away my ...
- Carrying my memories of the past away on the wind,...
- ... and away.
- It's five o'clock somewhere in the world.
- and farther...
- and higher...
- The loneliness of the daytime bartender.
Bookmarks:
- Texas Gurl (The first blog I picked up reading, and I'm still hooked!)
- Callahan Photography (Why is this girl not world famous?)
- Nanabear
- The Last Ditch (My Hero. My Role Model. Whom I hope to become some day. Perpetuating my love of Canadians)
- Michelle (Unfortunately not Canadian, but from Seattle, and that's close enough to count as cool in my book)
- Shutterbug!
- Diva Cow Girl (refreshingly frank and honest)
- The Sweet Life Photography (Heidi, a hometown photography enthusiast)
- Boinkology.com (Actual intellectual (and often humorous) discourse on intercourse)
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