Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Fort Popham

I may have gotten a bit overzealous amidst all this concentricity. I am not even caring if that is a word, sshh, let your eyes feast on the lines...{i kid you not, almost every one of these still has its b&w/color counterpart over in my flickr pool, i couldn't leave any of the tender things behind.}


I used to dream of stone houses.


full of corners, laden with the weight of their age. Silent under foot.




But I imagined them full of kitchens with warm ovens, and heaps of wool before I ever knew how essential wool is to me. Later I understood how stone can be stifling and cold at once, but I still swoon over its textures and sweet neutral palette, its spare dusty scent.


Boy battles shirt:


and wins. Which was, I believe, the most action this fort ever saw.

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