snowontheriver: Hayhook –from the Sally Mann photo, 1989 Everyone’s been swimming at least once, they show that fatigue from fighting the current and now their legs fall open too easily, hands barely palming tins of beer, a book, as the sun drops past the high boughs, the house eves, thank god, where Jessie hangs from a hayhook—white stroke of girlhood stretched, dead deer with the skin just pulled off to await the splitting. No blood yet, but soon. And Virginia there with her mouth pressed around a rubber tube, hand shaking something invisible and moving too fast for the dusk. Mindlessly she puts her lips to the trumpet, the plastic snake, the snorkeler, the long black tailpipe. —Karyna McGlynn

snowontheriver:

Hayhook

–from the Sally Mann photo, 1989

Everyone’s been swimming at least once,
they show that fatigue from fighting
the current and now their legs fall open
too easily, hands barely palming
tins of beer, a book, as the sun drops
past the high boughs, the house eves,
thank god, where Jessie hangs from
a hayhook—white stroke of girlhood
stretched, dead deer with the skin
just pulled off to await the splitting.
No blood yet, but soon.
And Virginia there with her mouth
pressed around a rubber tube, hand
shaking something invisible and
moving too fast for the dusk.
Mindlessly she puts her lips
to the trumpet, the plastic snake,
the snorkeler, the long black tailpipe.

—Karyna McGlynn

snowontheriver: Hayhook –from the Sally Mann photo, 1989 Everyone’s been swimming at least once, they show that fatigue from fighting the current and now their legs fall open too easily, hands barely palming tins of beer, a book, as the sun drops past the high boughs, the house eves, thank god, where Jessie hangs from a hayhook—white stroke of girlhood stretched, dead deer with the skin just pulled off to await the splitting. No blood yet, but soon. And Virginia there with her mouth pressed around a rubber tube, hand shaking something invisible and moving too fast for the dusk. Mindlessly she puts her lips to the trumpet, the plastic snake, the snorkeler, the long black tailpipe. —Karyna McGlynn

snowontheriver:

Hayhook

–from the Sally Mann photo, 1989

Everyone’s been swimming at least once,
they show that fatigue from fighting
the current and now their legs fall open
too easily, hands barely palming
tins of beer, a book, as the sun drops
past the high boughs, the house eves,
thank god, where Jessie hangs from
a hayhook—white stroke of girlhood
stretched, dead deer with the skin
just pulled off to await the splitting.
No blood yet, but soon.
And Virginia there with her mouth
pressed around a rubber tube, hand
shaking something invisible and
moving too fast for the dusk.
Mindlessly she puts her lips
to the trumpet, the plastic snake,
the snorkeler, the long black tailpipe.

—Karyna McGlynn

Posted 3 months ago & Filed under sally mann, karyna mcglynn, photography, immediate family, reblog, 13 notes View high resolution

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About:

This tumblr is dedicated to the photographer Sally Mann. Time Magazine named her America's Best Photographer in 2001, writing:

"Mann recorded a combination of spontaneous and carefully arranged moments of childhood repose and revealingly—sometimes unnervingly—imaginative play. What the outraged critics of her child nudes failed to grant was the patent devotion involved throughout the project and the delighted complicity of her son and daughters in so many of the solemn or playful events. No other collection of family photographs is remotely like it, in both its naked candor and the fervor of its maternal curiosity and care."

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