i feel like this round of pictures is like when you're trying to strike a match. that first few tries the spark cuts the darkness in a flash until that precise moment when pressure and friction combine in glass and sulfer and ignite into flame. i hope that i can keep the flame burning but to see its true light it can not be shielded from the wind. i must hold the flame outstretched and hope. thanks lydelle for the long journey to whitesburg and thanks to those at m.a.r.s. fest who appear in these photos.
