ode to the u penn darkroom in an eternal dusk i figit and focus with black knobbed apparati to make copy on copy of a small frame of my world. i look down at my hands with extrawide pupils and what i see is all photo gray and oddly moving like i've been bleached in developer. in the swirling bath of water are faces of people who have probably never met mingling and sticking to one another like a cocktail party of our imaginations. this is so much nicer than the little fifth-floor place where my lonely images dry slowly and i can't even really see my fingers because you don't need much light when you're alone.
11.22 | december | 12.03