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Vedauwoo, Wyoming 2011 |
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Washington D.C. 2011 |
I like to think that everything is made up of words. If you looked deep enough, instead of atoms you'd find that everything is a microscopic mass of words, quietly composing themselves into living things. Like atoms, words are always moving, vibrating in place with possibility, giving everything definition and substanance.
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Utah 2011 |
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Pisgah National Forest, North Carolina 2010 |
Words are life, they are everything I see and hear. Everything has its own words even if we can't translate them.
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Empidonax flycatcher, Erie Pennsylvania 2011 |
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Glacier National Park, Montana 2009 |
I want to be a translator.
I want my words, the words of me, my essence, to be part of the words of the world. That's all anyone wants, to be part of their surroundings, to be a thread in the fabric of life, to be part of the whole. If my thread wasn't here, who would be in my place? Without my words, my noise, what sound would there be? There would be words to fill my gap, but the whole composition would be altered. Or so I choose to believe.
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Cooper's Hawk, Erie Pennsylvania 2011 |
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Zion National Park, Utah 2008 |
We all need to be spoken and read.
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Aullwood Audubon Center and Farm, Dayton Ohio 2009 |
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New York City, New York 2011 |
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