There is a zone Shila and I go into when we're shooting photos. I absolutely love being there. Shila wanted to capture the smoke coming from the twin stacks of monster trucks that, for whatever reason, were being asked to haul an enormous sledge across the drag strip.
Their engines wailed and whined and sounded like they were about to blow up. Musta been a heavy sledge.
Repelled as I was by the deafening noise and diesel stench, I found it visually fascinating.
Especially when a tremendous Michelin Man of smoke came rising up behind the truck. HOLY COW.
A monster, issuing from a monster.
And then Shila said, "Look at the lights."
Bug tracers!
Moths describing serrated arcs! Velvet backdrop! ZOW!
Then there were bunnies. We've bred them to look so sweet. But I can tell you they bite, even the Droopy Dog lookin' ones. Maybe it's just because they're miserable in these little display cages.
That's OK. They're not being bred to nuzzle you. People eat them, I guess, use them for fur. I don't. I like to look at their lovely colors and their lazy poses. Even if I wanted to wear fur, I couldn't wear rabbit. Makes my nose tickle. The Small Animal Barn is a limited-time-only thing for me. I have to exit stage right like Bugs Bunny when it starts getting to me.
There's something so doglike about the lops, the way they arrange their legs when they sleep. Love them.
Speaking of things in cages...
more cool images of kids running through an obstacle course/maze of iron bars.
I kept going to Dante's Inferno. The colors so acid, the faces so freaky on the stuffed animal prizes that almost nobody ever wins. And then when you do, it takes up a quarter of your bedroom.
And it isn't well-made at all. Hard and not cuddly, either. But oh, the visuals, the spiders waiting by their webs.
2 comments:
Bunnehs--love 'em. We have our one and only bunny (the hutch bunny we "inherited" from neighbors who weren't caring for him). He sleeps in an outdoor hutch (complete with heating pad in the winter), but we put him in an exercise pen every day. Yesterday, we cleaned out the exercise pen and put down fresh straw everywhere. Hoppy (as he was named when we got him) had a blast--rearranging "the furniture."
BUG TRACERS! Now I'm going to make a point of looking for them. If I accidentally snap a nightjar that would be okay too.
I just got back from visiting a friend and I put her bunny on my lap--soft, soft bunny--where he punctured my thigh with his bottom feet four times. Four pairs of holes precisely two inches apart. They have vampire feet.
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