Deconstruct

I am enchanted by the potency of atmosphere. Its ability to envelope, to immerse, to suffocate reality into the imagined. An intangibility that slams into the body, into the soul.

P.S. I'm looking for what I lost in photographs. Snapshots filled with sparkling irises and fairy teeth; blue glow. Fingers wrapped tightly around the idea of fingers. The disintegration of shadows. Concepts in w(hole). I stare and stare and stare, hoping it will fill the space of what was never quite finished...

Lips on glass; the heavy silence of wanting to speak