Obfuscation
First, there’s a post about Hawaii. Not the islands, exactly, but a print sale of fifteen images, selected from Daido Moriyama’s 2007 book. Then comes the hum, deep in the pit of my stomach, a stirring of ancient machines. I suddenly crave darkness and an obfuscation of reality, smeared. I want sunlight turned inside out and leaves that scratch at the sky.
And then I’m driving.
Dreaming of black sand.
