There was always a man named Delph,
Who listened to clocks on his shelf,
Making sure every hour that none skipped a beat,
After years of devotion, he died on his feet,
Tick tocking time will care for itself.
There was always a man named Delph,
Who listened to clocks on his shelf,
Making sure every hour that none skipped a beat,
After years of devotion, he died on his feet,
Tick tocking time will care for itself.
There once was a boy so lucky,
He’d stumble about feeling quite plucky,
And find his way in the world by a guess
There was scarcely a way to think less,
Then he looked back, and all he could say was “Sucky.”
There is little in life worthy of HATE.
But moments which mess with your fate,
Are so awful, so shocking, so full of distaste,
Its hard to imagine a a more terrible waste,
When somebody calls and tell you you’re late.
I’ve started working on what will be a series of shoots capturing people in their places with local artists and performers here in Norfolk. One of the things that interests me most as a poet and as a performer are the ways the world changes in strange little moments of personal discovery, that the world is forever a different thing for the person in that moment but its distinctly the same for everyone else. The way our small choices push us over cliffs of forever after that crumble into smooth beaches and we are the only ones walking the boardwalk who know these were once giant bluffs. This project looks at creative people building lives and careers and changing the shapes of their worlds. There’s a way that places shape and inform these experiences, and in return, these places will absorb our character.
The first in that set was a double shoot with my dear friend Scott, astonishing tenor, professional singer for hire, Managing Director of the Virginia Chorale, and (former) foursquare mayor of (just about) everywhere in Norfolk. First we got some pictures in the studio (headshot fare and some debonaire flare) then we took a walk down by the Elizabeth river and had some fun in really unusual and beautiful late afternoon light in an abandoned building by the river bank. The corrugated metal roof of the building is rusted through in places making a kind of gobo throughout much of the space. It was a little dank, and there was some off-color graffiti but we got some really cool pictures in what was deemed Scott’s Secret Musical Lair.
This Iowa-class Battleship is now a museum of a kind and makes a HUGE impression on the color of downtown Norfolk. I finally made this picture after running past the monumental machine 4 times a week for the better part of a month. I had a difficult day of figuring out how to do the things that don’t appeal to me, grinding on the stuff that I wish I could outsource, so I had to go get the reward of making a really neat picture at sunset.
Picking it out, let that frizziness grow,
Even though everyone her came for the show,
Its pretty undeniable and totally clear,
We all see why they’re all still here,
They came for the speech but they’ll stay for the fro.
Always catching the eye of a crush,
Bill always seemed to stay flush,
But the truth would come out,
His accounts weren’t so stout,
And so would end the gold rush.
He said, “I’ve got lonely in my bones”
Like his head was full of stones,
He called to everyone who’d listen,
And rant about all the life he’s missin’
With lots of friends, like this, a life, he hones
I once knew a girl named Amanda,
Who drank with a straw, propaganda
But when she got an idea of her own,
her enthusiasm could be overblown,
And so introduced the Sexual harassment Panda
He wasn’t one you’d count among winners,
Turns up late and ill-attired to really nice dinners,
Still everyone knew, its not that he’s rude,
Do you see? Thats just the way of the Dude,
Takin’ her easy, for all of us sinners.