jealz
oh man. Where to start. Thought about building one. This magical place to make pictures come true. Then found out that color darkrooms are insane and prohibitively expensive. So instead I think about how nice it would be, and send away my pictures instead. Another nice dream, but not one I can realize. Which might be better, in the end.
print, print media, death. Why should language make us think inevitably of death? Is this just an example of the way death’s shadow falls on everything we do? Can any word be divorced from its end? Guess not.