angela

ANGELA

stands in the kitchen

watching

from behind panes

her bare feet on the floor

her toes look blue

distractions

helping a friend move. distracted by one of my favorite things to photograph; empty rooms. they fascinate me. i find them so beautiful and intriguing. what was left behind in this place no void of life.

remembering summer days

inside

found a new camera app for my phone; vignette D. super cool. you can customize the filters quite a lot to get all sorts of effects. i like.

settee

though dirty windows

and there

chairs

fog

the other night toronto was full of fog. fog so dense that, in places, you could not see down the street.

windows

Tree at My Window

Robert Frost

Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.
Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.
But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,

You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.
That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.