I kind of live on craigslist. Sometimes more than others, but it’s somewhat the nature of the beast of living in the city. Roommates, jobs, apartments, and so on and so forth. You really never know what you’ll find, which is especially the case when clicking upon links in the artist section where people sometimes promote their work. (Hey, I’ve done it. Especially after my early serious dress post, because that took me a while to photograph and put together and all and I was proud of it). So, yes, you never know what you’ll find, and usually I find myself frowning or cringing at what I see. But. One day I was game, and clicked on the link to Steven Ketchum‘s page, and I found myself pleasantly surprised.

As I scrolled through his work, I found myself thinking hmm… I like this. I do.

I like the parts of intricate detail, combined with the blurred inky watercolors.

The simplicity, but that it’s not.

To me, it’s like memories. The way we remember things. Some things call out in detail. Some things are blurred. Some things fade away with time. Some are amplified, and some we recall wistfully.

It reminds me of something, but I don’t know what. I like them, but it’s hard to describe why. But. I feel like that’s kind of the feeling that these capture. Lack of understanding; the feelings between feelings; the thoughts between thoughts.

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