mills

My name is Mills Baker; I write about love, culture, art, religion, mental illness, philosophy, memory, politics and the rather random.

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Posts tagged photo.
From Photophobia:
I took some photos in the rain last night. Over longer exposures, individually turbulent phenomena like splashing rain drops disappear and leave only their aggregate effects. Above you can see the stillness of the water under the Interstate and the splashless-but-disturbed open lake.
I posted a few more rain photos here.

FromĀ Photophobia:

I took some photos in the rain last night. Over longer exposures, individually turbulent phenomena like splashing rain drops disappear and leave only their aggregate effects. Above you can see the stillness of the water under the Interstate and the splashless-but-disturbed open lake.

I posted a few more rain photos here.

Tags: photo
We went to a concert; I screamed and sang so loud that I hurt my throat. A security guard approached me: “Do you have a pass for that camera?” I stammered, exaggerating my nervousness because I think they appreciate submission: “N-no, did I need one? I didn’t know…” Oddly, he replied: “I don’t know, actually. Stay right here. Don’t move.”
He came back: “They’re cool with it.” I thought that was very decent; it was probably a little hard on him.

We went to a concert; I screamed and sang so loud that I hurt my throat. A security guard approached me: “Do you have a pass for that camera?” I stammered, exaggerating my nervousness because I think they appreciate submission: “N-no, did I need one? I didn’t know…” Oddly, he replied: “I don’t know, actually. Stay right here. Don’t move.”

He came back: “They’re cool with it.” I thought that was very decent; it was probably a little hard on him.

Tags: photo
At lunch, sandwiched between real men, during Syd’s “Brotastic Saturday.” Even the waitress helpfully noted that I was scrawny.

At lunch, sandwiched between real men, during Syd’s “Brotastic Saturday.” Even the waitress helpfully noted that I was scrawny.