Erin Shafkind
Thursday, June 3rd, 2010
Erin Shafkind, originally uploaded by Dan Carrillo.
Ambrotype wet-plate photo by Daniel Carrillo
Ambrotype wet-plate photo by Daniel Carrillo
it’s just so beautiful…
http://www.woostercollective.com/
This is very exciting. With the 2nd official text from the project the participation improved. Here are Four drawings and below are other texts sent grouped by category.
Vast Creatures in a tiny Forest
Thumbtacks and Hues
Cupcakes and Secret Places
Buiding Underground Cities and Fruit Filled Flowers
Erin Shafkind texted: Tiny creatures in a vast forest. What could they be dreaming about?
replies below:
Aaron K:Some dream of cozy hidey-holes, others see unimaginable heights…
John A: The annual self-cannibalism and frati-immolation festival, duh
Brandon K: The weiner mobile of Course!
Jeffrey E: Moonpies, fizzies, and other yummy things from lands far and near.
Helga H: Springtime crochet tea parties.
Shellwyn B: The forest spirit.
Skip: Stink Mushrooms
Rory M: Warmth
Larry N: Fucking their brethren
Evan B: Sex and food
Tim C: Having sex in the rain under a giant mushroom
Amy-Ellen: Bulldozers comin their way!
Liz S: Nightmares about the thin line between celebrities and wax figures.
Bellen D: Delphi says like humans they could be dreaming about a lot of things
Kareem: Trapezing in the trees.
Charla: Wondering if there’s life outside the forest
Romy S: I have been noting the important role of the footlocker on my life. Any thoughts?
Erin S:Dreaming of who will be their tiny forest Valentine.
I found this old photo after reading a lovely essay by Lyall Bush, the director of the Richard Hugo House. The Hugo House is an amazing writing center on Capitol Hill in Seattle. I happen to have an art show there right now. The show includes color photography, poetry and other media and runs through May. I think Lyall says it best and you can read his essay here, and more about the Hugo House here.
My Mom took this photo some 20 years ago, it’s strange getting older and having icons die, even though we all will go someday, it still seems odd.
Goodbye and thank you Mr. Vonnegut