Before heading off to California, I got the privilege to shoot for a couple evenings with Mumbo, this little bantam hen for a quick video to support the Billings backyard hen initiative, which is slowly making its way to the City Council. It’s a quick shot to raise some awareness around the issue. There were a bunch of people who helped out, who shall remain nameless lest I out their coops to the city.
Spondees are the best words to whisper in the dark.
The first time I was arrested was on my dead father’s 52nd birthday.
17a, a pregnant Romney, ambles into the chute and stops. Her fleece corkscrews out from her body sending out shoots of thick wool in all directions. Grace, my ten-year old daughter, buries her hands deep into the wooly fleece and smiles. She runs off to find Anabel Lombard, the ewe’s owner, to have her to hold 17a’s fleece once it’s sheared. Grace has never chosen a fleece before. She goes with her intuition; with the way her hands feel buried into the ewe’s wool, with the way the ewe stops, tilts her head back, and looks up at this girl leaning over the railing, as though asking to be chosen.