Category: Portraits

Words can paint, each letter, a bristle of a brush. The sentence becomes a stroke. Paragraphs shape objects. A portrait needs no beginning, middle, or end. When we look deep at a painting, we can’t help but wonder why the Mona Lisa smiles. If you look deep enough at portraits, close enough to pick out desire, they jump out of the frame. The frame is the story. Break out! Break out!

Looking Glass

Little Crater Lake, July 2018 A double blue reflection. The cobalt of the lake with its graveyard of dead trees lying on the bottom. One recent death half-floats in purgatory. And the deep blue of the sky, foregrounded by a living green forest. Both…

Sand Fire

Where the Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean Clatsop Spit, Oregon, August 2018    

Dude

Near the Sandy Glacier on Mt. Hood, I met this spiky-haired, hip hop hippy. I liked his medallion. He was chill, happy, didn’t say much.

Birdlike — Elan Mudrow Photography

They were birdlike and referred to their planet as the nest. (Timothy Lake, Oregon, July 2018) via Birdlike — Elan Mudrow Photography

Likeness — Elan Mudrow Photography

Alien Intruder or just the shadow of a nerd? Burnt Lake, Oregon, September 2017       (The Square Peg) via Likeness — Elan Mudrow Photography

Face In The Woods

The woods are watching. Pacific Crest Trail, Oregon, June 2018     See more photos here.

The L Joint

On the roof of this five-story building is a forest of tar, softening in the summer, seeping rain in the winter. Pigeons roost there. Not in the tar itself, but in little areas where vents pop out above the forest. There is one larger…

Urban Mimesis — Elan Mudrow Photography

via Urban Mimesis — Elan Mudrow Photography Fire had sustained, now it consumes in a slow gesture. Fingers—intact—same shape as they were before, can’t conduct. Invoking is a painted portrait, prepared each morning in the image of the moon. Flame like flowers still shoots…

Crows

They swirl above me, swashes of crows, in a chaos of dashes. They cackle, arguing amongst themselves, bickering with the sky. These large murders are new. I haven’t seen them like this, as if they’re scolding me. For, I think they follow me. I…

Binary Stars – The Kid And I

The kid comes in, snaps a few photos of a living clutter, the retail store. “We don’t have anything like this.” The standard review, spoken by the parent of the kid who shares the photo on Instagram, Facebook, or some other app. The shop…

Weathered Waves Of Grain — Elan Mudrow Photography

Every ridge felt. Fort To Sea Trail. March 2018 via Weathered Waves Of Grain — Elan Mudrow Photography

Hi — Elan Mudrow Photography

Feeling a little Hi. Columbia River Gorge, Cape Horn, December 2017 via Hi — Elan Mudrow Photography

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