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my dust will tell what my flesh would not | by Brooke Golightly
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my dust will tell what my flesh would not

where the wild winds blow

and the cold stars shine


[I told you the darkness was lurking near]


This photo is one that has been an idea of mine, but only in the back of my mind kind of way. I bought the rope for another idea and brought it along and found this to be the perfect place to try this shot. I felt a little strange and silly running around nude in this place, ears keened for the sound of any leaves or footfalls. But it's in a remote area, not exactly near town, so... I just enjoyed the moment and had a blast getting dirty like a child as I watched the sun come up.


There is no part of me that wishes to be buried in a box when my life is extinguished. And I'm not entirely sure I'm all that happy with cremation, either. I think more than any other school of thought I enjoy the one of rejoining the earth and becoming one again with the elements which comprise all of us living beings. It has always seemed terribly macabre and disquieting to me at funerals to feel like I'm required to walk past a husk that once contained someone I loved and respected.

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Taken on August 19, 2012