Eclosion
Photographer’s statement In this photo, a female black swallowtail has just emerged from its chrysalis and is busy drying its wings on a plaster sculpture. The juxtaposition of the butterfly and the life-like hand is at once a haphazard connection and yet, it almost seems to evince a metaphysical allegory.
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My father sister and I in the trees with our hair blowing. My sister as usual has something in her hands and grins in a way no one could say no to, dancing in restaurants until she pulls in to herself at 19 like the turtles she collects. But here she’s the sweet pouter, my father’s pockets bulge with things, the gum he’ll give us in the brown chair later reading the funnies. I’ve got a little pot and my arms are heavy, my father touches us both lightly as if he’s not sure we’re...
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photo by R.S. Carlson Coxa. Trochanter. Femur. Tibia. Tarsus… and four of the five named segments of mantis foreleg flare spines to pierce and grip whatever crawls, flies or falls too near. The foreleg segments hang – at rest – half-reminiscent of a monk at prayer, awkward exoskeletal sacramentals, broad and thick; they hang from what, for me, would be shoulders and, scissor-jointed twice, taper to what seem frail twigs dangling astray but, to hummingbird, beetle or honeybee too near, the tarsi prove stilettos swifter than eyes, single or compound, commonly track, and their small spurs...
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