2/01/2012

cult of memory # 100 (and something):

tell me the long scar on your face really belongs to you,
too rough to lay on your sweet sixteen skin,
a fibrous bridge
trailing down to the sleeve
of that blue t-shirt of yours
printed with the name of some punk band,
its ink bloated by the wash
i rub the letters
to dig my fingers into your chest--

don't you know what i feel about
you, who
makes piles of newspaper
in the corner of the school coffee shop,
to hide from the undergraduate girls
who move closer and closer
in-between your legs
spreading your hips,
to suck on you
like a wad of that newspaper--
oakland is falling, north korea is coming,
something is happening with sarkozy-
yet you
with all that hair sulking in front of your face,
how could you care about anything really at all--
how could you care about me?

oh really it's nothing, the skin
to skin contact, our mouths that night
collapsed upon each other
and i continue to collapse over
the hands, self indulgent for that hour--
don't worry it won't be
remembered for too long--
but if you could give me a chance
perhaps we can start over
and collapse and collapse again.

1/17/2012

My First Solo Show:

I decided to name the show after this blog. It is, after all, the inspiration that led me to this project. :)




What started as a blog project turned into a weekend ritual with a camera: walking to the Vermont/Sunset rail station, taking the train toward Union Station, and then traveling on foot for miles through Downtown Los Angeles and its surrounding neighborhoods. The result of these ventures is a collection of encounters, thoughts, exchanges, and the anxiety about photographing Los Angeles.

The Migration of Rare Birds is a street history of Los Angeles people amidst the age of surveillance and xenophobia happening throughout the country; it is a questioning of the ethics and intentions of being a street photographer in Los Angeles; it is a documentary of movement to and from, of being stopped and stopping oneself, and then moving onward.


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1/09/2012