Words by: Cooper Whittier and Bryden Bowley
Photography by: Wietse Thomas, Ryan Collins, Erik Pousette, Bryden Bowley, Colt Morgan, Einar Fuglem, and Cooper Whittier
no flower grows alone,
no city is built by one
this ant hill is our city
the depth of every tunnel and my friends’ conquered fear
what is built will be remembered
we can all look back on this,
like a heart shaped locket opened when lonely
i cherish it,
a little fossil hanging from my neck
an ant hill of friendship
we stand here, yelling out for more to join us
it is our duty to share
today is better with each other / we love that you’re here
we march together, carrying our tools
stacking layers and pieces
climb up to the top, turn, and pull your friend’s hand up
we build things
it’s better with each other / we love that you’re here
no flower grows alone
or a single berry on a bush
our ant hill is our city
we live inside
we explore the tunnels and know each other
what we build will be petrified
forever
no fossil exists without our overview,
it is our declaration of it that makes it holy
The shadow of tomorrow
loomed for what felt like months
a highway of such deep blue in front of us
such deep blue it was optimistic to not call it black
The cracked window
comfort of a loved one
A brother
conversation unfamiliar, comforting, assuring,
unfamiliar
underpass
ghosts of intuition fought off
It took months to feel them
exhaustion, underpass, field, forest,
draped in tomorrow’s shadow
gravity
certain moments last long after we do
in others, in elsewhere, in our space occupied
The snow, such blissful hate
my eternal obsession
Dreaming in norwegian snowbanks
our waning crave
Why else are we here
In barren night
eating me
to hear my friends pain
And Realizing my tendencies
In fear of acceptance
Time’s hands need work on me
feeling pain in his voice
It felt good
that sound of admittance
It felt black
another month rests on the horizon
we laid in that field of flooding hope
in elsewhere,
so much easier to exist in a place that doesn’t
alcohol, satisfaction, nicotine, warmth, dopamine,
food, laughter, love, color, sound, truth, bliss
nothing
Absolutely nothing
as the road cuts like metallic cloth
the bottle plugs, that deep blue halted, eyes shut
I think of that sunset in nova scotia, its explosive wonder
at least we have something
That others assume is everything
at least we have
