Often as a writer I pour over whether what I am writing is something that should command any attention. I reach out for the ethereal words to grasp them from the semi-opaque vapors in my mind that pass for thoughts, trying earnestly to say something significant. It is nearly inexpressible how I often feel that this is an exercise in futility: I can never say it well enough. It will fail, I fear… I believe. I even wrote an untitled poem back in early March that I posted on my personal Instagram (@prramer) that spoke to this feeling of inevitable failure at words.
Desert moon through the trees
Here’s a photograph I shot back in fall of 2014, most likely. I would have to find my notebook of film shooting notes that I made at the time to confirm, but I don’t know where it is right now. (It’s probably in storage somewhere when it should be on my bookshelf. I’ll look for … Read more Desert moon through the trees