Self-Addressing Clip

Bucket Face

Craftily hiding amongst poolside buckets, ol’ Bucket Face’ll tell ya what’s up. He’ll yell ya what’s up. Get ‘im back with a mondo-super-ultra cannonball ta chill ‘im out, ya know?

Pineapple Surprise

A sidewalk pineapple plant struck me as I walked by it. And it hurt. I turned to catch the smacksome villain who dared smite me and saw nothing. I looked again with my Camera Obscura, and found this treacherous roadside beast, eager to cause strife of all varieties. I threatened to chop off its head and eat it, and it quickly groveled while I walked away. By the time I reached the corner I could already hear it giggling again. Alas that my reprimand was overlooked so quickly, but then again, who would eat an unripe pineapple?

Miniature Howler

This fine example of a Miniature Howler poked its face out at me on my walk to work from its perch on the back of a truck. These creatures are mostly harmless, though thought by many to be pests, and named after the piercing screams they eternally issue. Some experts think that this Miniature variety came first into existence when a Howler (a much larger, nocturnal creature that has a taste for raw chicken) and a robot squirrel mated. Due to its size and ability to forage, the Miniature Howler has infested much of Northern Thailand. 

Wilting Wails

The delicately scented trees towering above--

“Have one on me” dripping into my thirsty ears--

My Costco brand sneakers burning up the fitness park trail--

ceased to be important at the sounding of a small incessant wail that left me shaking.

I searched for the epicenter of this low-coming noise. Its found face paralyzed me with a tripping combination of fear and empathy. Here was a once massive beast imprisoned in the thin shell of a leaf. Whatever mage turned this fearsome hulk into something a few inches long left it with the chilling power of wailing.

It sounded like a warning.

I ran away.

O-Range Bit

I was sprawled reading on concrete steps when I noticed my toes were being nibbled by a puddle of blossoms at my feet. Closer inspection--the “blossoms” were O-range Bits. Closer still—interspecies war: fire ants versus O-range Bits.

O-range Bits (named thusly for their terrifying and fang-ringed ‘O’ mouths) live in trees until the day they plop down. Once arrayed in a pile upon the ground they roil in a Dionysian frenzy of nectar, biting, and being small[1]. In such a state of active energy they attack anything that gets too close, and bit the hardest at feet and small bugs.  

I got away with only a few of my smaller toes missing, but continued to document the plight of the ants and the desperation of the O-Range Bits from afar.

This photo is from the ranks of the fallen Bits and may be a bit graphic for some audiences.

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[1] Lives which seem simple, but are probably just being over simplified here by me. I found it difficult to study this species closely; language barriers (as well as size differences) prevented both a figurative and a literal foothold in their society. 

small

Small spaces fill me with intrigue. When a box (real or imaginary) catches a space inside of it, I feel myself pushing the possibilities of the area.[1] I strain to find something that fits physically, but that tells an intricate gangle of a story that touches far from itself.

These are the positive wonders, the wonders of when the sun shines. At night (real or imaginary) parasitic monsters leak into these boxes however hard I try to keep them out. They move with frightening speed and accuracy and aren’t content to merely touch far from themselves. Their touch is infections. Their touch is teeth.

Here are some found monsters. Thankfully, I met them in the heat of the day when their stories where warm and only mildly insolent.

I tremble at the thought of the terrible teeth they must grow every evening.

Kate poured this one into her mouth where it left her with a soulful glow of caffeine.

Harmless enough, but don’t pick those flowers. This monster’s heavy face can break your heart and your hand just as quickly.

Mailpeople have the most difficult time getting junk mail to stick in this retching wall guardian.

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[1] This is when Wall-Tape Monsters and Sewn Leaf Palettes come into existence.