A nostalgic dump. Snap view into the life of several Midwestern potheads tooling around Phoenix and Arizona in 1995. Shot on various 35mm film, aged stressed with an HP scanner.

A nostalgic dump. Snap view into the life of several Midwestern potheads tooling around Phoenix and Arizona in 1995. Shot on various 35mm film, aged stressed with an HP scanner.
Game Four
X: You give me less than I give you.
O: Is it necessary that we give each other the same amount?
X: No. But it should be compulsory.
O: Maybe you’re just not receiving what I’m giving you.
X: And maybe I should find someone that I could receive things from.
O: Can’t you learn to receive from me?
X: I’m not even sure that you’re giving me anything other than that which I’m receiving. I don’t want to take.
O: So what do you think causes this?
X: I don’t think that you’re receiving all that I’m giving you.
O: And what exactly are you trying to give me?
X: Love.
O: I think that I get some of that.
X: Maybe a little. But I’m beginning to think that maybe you really don’t know how to be loved. That maybe you don’t even love yourself.
O: Do you love yourself?
X: Sometimes.
O: Well I love myself sometimes too.
X: Which is why sometimes, sometimes we get along.
O: But isn’t that what relationships are for? To help one another love ourselves?
X: I don’t think so. But even if it is, are we successful at doing that?
O: Sometimes.
X: Sometimes.
O: So shouldn’t we keep trying?
X: I don’t know, I think that there is a love deficit between us.
O: Huh?
Buy the Book!
Julie Noelle Roessler prepares a salad during a noise jam in celebration of a Roesing Ape book release. About four minutes in the most annoying sound I’ve ever heard happens, I think because Zog’s oscillators were too close to the camera.