Ethan
@ethan78.bsky.social
In honor of the snowy weather here of late- here’s a snap from a road trip last April that took me through the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho. Elevation was around 7000 ft if I recall.
February 6, 2025 at 6:05 PM
In honor of the snowy weather here of late- here’s a snap from a road trip last April that took me through the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho. Elevation was around 7000 ft if I recall.
Trying to use @pinksky.app to post here but all I get are error messages to both text and images.
February 5, 2025 at 8:45 PM
Trying to use @pinksky.app to post here but all I get are error messages to both text and images.
In my study, which is without heat,
in mid-January, in the hills
of a northern province—only
the thin white-haired volumes
of poetry speak, quietly, like
unfed birds on a night visit
to a cat farm. And an airplane is lost
in a storm of fitting pins.
The snow falls, far into the interior.
in mid-January, in the hills
of a northern province—only
the thin white-haired volumes
of poetry speak, quietly, like
unfed birds on a night visit
to a cat farm. And an airplane is lost
in a storm of fitting pins.
The snow falls, far into the interior.
February 2, 2025 at 7:10 PM
In my study, which is without heat,
in mid-January, in the hills
of a northern province—only
the thin white-haired volumes
of poetry speak, quietly, like
unfed birds on a night visit
to a cat farm. And an airplane is lost
in a storm of fitting pins.
The snow falls, far into the interior.
in mid-January, in the hills
of a northern province—only
the thin white-haired volumes
of poetry speak, quietly, like
unfed birds on a night visit
to a cat farm. And an airplane is lost
in a storm of fitting pins.
The snow falls, far into the interior.
And all you can say after the long nightof searching for one certain scrap of paper:
It never existed.
And when all the lamps are lit and the smell of the stew
has followed you upstairs
and slipped under the door of your study:
The lute is telling the story
of the life I might have lived,
had I not—
It never existed.
And when all the lamps are lit and the smell of the stew
has followed you upstairs
and slipped under the door of your study:
The lute is telling the story
of the life I might have lived,
had I not—
February 2, 2025 at 7:10 PM
And all you can say after the long nightof searching for one certain scrap of paper:
It never existed.
And when all the lamps are lit and the smell of the stew
has followed you upstairs
and slipped under the door of your study:
The lute is telling the story
of the life I might have lived,
had I not—
It never existed.
And when all the lamps are lit and the smell of the stew
has followed you upstairs
and slipped under the door of your study:
The lute is telling the story
of the life I might have lived,
had I not—
Storm - James Tate
The snow visits us,
taking little bits of us with it,
to become part of the earth,
an early death and an early return—
like the filing of tax forms.
And all you can say after adding up
column after column: “I’m not myself.”
The snow visits us,
taking little bits of us with it,
to become part of the earth,
an early death and an early return—
like the filing of tax forms.
And all you can say after adding up
column after column: “I’m not myself.”
February 2, 2025 at 7:08 PM
Storm - James Tate
The snow visits us,
taking little bits of us with it,
to become part of the earth,
an early death and an early return—
like the filing of tax forms.
And all you can say after adding up
column after column: “I’m not myself.”
The snow visits us,
taking little bits of us with it,
to become part of the earth,
an early death and an early return—
like the filing of tax forms.
And all you can say after adding up
column after column: “I’m not myself.”
Rejections are always tough- but it’s a slap in the face when they say “we encourage you to apply next year”- when you’re terminally ill and likely don’t have a “next year”.
February 1, 2025 at 2:57 AM
Rejections are always tough- but it’s a slap in the face when they say “we encourage you to apply next year”- when you’re terminally ill and likely don’t have a “next year”.
Minneslund på Arholma, Stockholms skärgård, Sverige. Oktober 2024
Grove of Remembrance on the island of Arholma in the Stockholm archipelago, Sweden. October 2024
Taken during my time at BKN Börkö Kostnad/Björkö Artist Residency.
#photography #sweden
Grove of Remembrance on the island of Arholma in the Stockholm archipelago, Sweden. October 2024
Taken during my time at BKN Börkö Kostnad/Björkö Artist Residency.
#photography #sweden
January 31, 2025 at 9:51 PM
Minneslund på Arholma, Stockholms skärgård, Sverige. Oktober 2024
Grove of Remembrance on the island of Arholma in the Stockholm archipelago, Sweden. October 2024
Taken during my time at BKN Börkö Kostnad/Björkö Artist Residency.
#photography #sweden
Grove of Remembrance on the island of Arholma in the Stockholm archipelago, Sweden. October 2024
Taken during my time at BKN Börkö Kostnad/Björkö Artist Residency.
#photography #sweden
It’s back for me! Thanks for your hard work on making this app so great!
January 30, 2025 at 12:10 AM
It’s back for me! Thanks for your hard work on making this app so great!
@fotoapp.co plans on launching a public release soon. You can find me there. I won’t be adding new content to insta going forward.
January 27, 2025 at 3:24 PM
@fotoapp.co plans on launching a public release soon. You can find me there. I won’t be adding new content to insta going forward.
From the last day of my recent sojourn in Sweden. A good depiction of how I feel being back in the US
November 16, 2024 at 6:39 PM
From the last day of my recent sojourn in Sweden. A good depiction of how I feel being back in the US