top of page
  • Writer's picturewhit


Red like the sunburns and the fire ants that shot their sting through a little girl  playing in her backyard. 

Red like the rocks and the paint I used to show off my favorite vacations of an arch and a sunset.

Red like the blood that shoots through an embarrassed girl when she says what she feels out loud and smiles at a blushing boy ​like a fool. 

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


the sound of my dad’s guitar playing his favorite chords the typing of my mom’s fingers going through family records the smell of the ceramics studio full of the kiln, dust and glaze the running home


it’s the little things they always say like how you listen more than you ever have before or how you stopped opening my car door like how you squeeze me tighter in our hugs or how you don’t answer me


I cant remember the last photo i took maybe it was a mountain maybe my niece maybe myself maybe you looking away no matter what it was it’s the last thing my lense has seen which means it means everyt


bottom of page