Operation: Cover Your Eyes

I dont wanna see you

never buy a thing from a man named truth

Manual photography

Using my Dad's old Nikon FG SLR and some really old b/w film he gave me I strutted around the streets of richmond snappin hot pix of random fancy strikers. Enjoy.

terror or error, i dunno

egads

Yeah, I was featured, no big deal...

So, yesterday I spruced up my website and sent out feelers to a few design websites I enjoy on a daily basis to see if any of them would take pity and put up a link to my website. And I heard back from one! Andrew at Designiskinky.net recently linked to my blog. You can find it here: http://www.designiskinky.net/?p=2734

Awesome stuff. I love reading that website and to see my own work on it is pretty neat. Thanks Andrew.

Updates

Updated the main website. It's got a bunch of stuff from the blog on there and a couple things I have never put up. There is especially a lot of photography up there.

http://phullish.com

Sometimes I'm talkative and sometimes you're not talkative, I know....

Can I tell you that you are the purple in me?

only the prurient man shall pass

Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby. GOTTEM

Sin is understood in the Christian tradition, as Augustine said centuries ago, to be “living a lie.”

School is rollin along nicely, here's a small update.


I can feel your sin(ew)
throbbing inside you.
Warm bloody traction,
pulling heart beats in-action.
Red cords will be drawn out,
retracted:
course, lines, routes (traced/erased/retraced).
It's motion while being still,
it's vibrations, it's palpitations.
Ink-fills, teeth hills,
Ink-well ripples.
See the lines, see how they flow!
They follow: the brush, the fingers,
mimicking the hollow()
valleys.



Trash cans of water
greet the arrival of the rains,
creeping just beyond the horizon,
swept off the celestial ocean.

My aqua body has pruned
while my sun-kissed face wrinkles.
My surroundings ripple.

I'm standing on end; I wait.
My knees have stiffened
in the mean time.

My hands cup, upwards, waiting for Varuna,
Clouds birth rain, drunk and pissed by Makara.
My feet press against the earth.

I look outward,
patient, penitent,
praying.

Watching the dark half of the sky
drops finally connect,
and my hands clutch each other.

Thank
god.