I know, I know - an overly dramatic name. That's what I do, though. I 'overly dramatic'.
This is shooting out the window from work. Cross_processed 100 Provia film. The poetry of it, for me, was the lasting remnants of masking tape, clinging to the window and demanding attention. Like that bit of chalk on the board that the teacher doesn't quite erase. Like the eyelash, sand speckle or dry spot - you can't figure out which - that has you blinking while you watch a sunset.
When I was a kid I had a fear of sunny days. Or at least, I got anxious when it was really clear out and I had nothing to do. Something about the poetry of "masking tape," that it "bonds" things, that I'm looking out from within in this shot, and that the sky symbolizes freedom/opportunity for so many, sometimes freedom and opportunity you don't have, while for many, it is the scariest thing in the world. Just a very intense juxtaposition. Something about how, even though you can "rip off the tape," escape your bondage, if it has been long, there will always be some "guck" that you'll be scratching, rubbing at for a long long time.