oh atlas (102/365)
one hundred days, can you believe it? i feel the same as i did when i began this, one hundred days ago, and then again, i feel completely different. the seasons have changed, and my feelings toward people have evolved or sunken into the ground to sleep.
time is awkward, and terrifying, i feel like it goes so quickly and eats everything in its path until all we are left with is the present.
time sleeps, time dreams, and move move moves.
atlas carried the world on his shoulders, not his back, so this is incorrect, but this appeals to me still.
my little brother has trouble paying attention in school, learning, growing, this is a photo of him for him
he's always three steps behind and we put alot of pressure on him,
i guess this makes sense
i painted the earth, not quite accurate
january 7, 2009