Operated by John-Riley Harper. Dedicated to archiving photography from Utah's underground scenes, as well as other personal projects.

Blasphemy - Dress to Confess
It's a great place to be, or a great life to live, where the combustions of many materials illuminate the shadows of the earth . We'd call that nighttime, but laser beams, burning ethanol, and the LEDs of St. Nick find it a time to compete with the sun whose back is turned. We have become connoisseur's of the commodification of light. It is delicious and we would pay and give and pray and sacrifice and war for it. The laser beam, especially, is an intense, vibrant, interactive lover. I have always loved it adored it worshiped it but it needs atmosphere to really rouse its romance. It ripens under cigarette smoke and synthetic fog. It bounces off your sweat. It rewards and allows the eyes to feast on the sensuousness of photon fillet. I wish to write to orchestrate an ode, but that would foretell an end. Ew. There is no end to that perfect laser beam. It goes on forever. It is starlight under a perfect snoot, an emerald or ruby roscolor strip between. And to frame this paradise in the oscillating, mortal night - hydro carbons burn like sugar, dancing among undulating flesh.

Oh! And happy birthday Nina!

Labels: ,



  • Archives: