New Book / Looking After Angels

PURCHASE THE BOOK HERE >>

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ABOUT THE BOOK:

Looking After Angels
Jordan Sullivan

17 Photographs / 14 Unique Drawings - hand-drawn by the artist into each book

First Edition / ISBN 978-1-7322746-4-8

Published by Paradigm Publishing, 2018

Printed in the United States

Photgraphs, Drawings, Text, and Design by Jordan Sullivan

All photographs were made in Bushwick, Brooklyn between the Fall of 2017 and the Spring of 2018

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Clouds made of birds drift over the rooftops of the neighborhood. Some of the last pigeon keepers in New York City live here, in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Throughout the day their birds fly over the block, drawing unnameable shapes across the sky. Patterns of soul and patterns of survival. Some of the birds are the color of ash, others are the color of bright snow and apricots. Some of the birds look like longings. All of the birds are more colorful than they appear. When the birds fly it’s like watching a heartbeat, or ocean waves, and the shape of each flight pattern is different than the one that comes before and after.

Sometimes I photograph the birds from the corner of my street. Other times I photograph them from my kitchen window, but mostly I don’t photograph them at all. I just sit by the window, and I watch them fly. I imagine that somehow they will always be flying, and they are as holy as doves. I imagine someone will always be raising them, and all the things like them. Somehow, somewhere, someone will be caring for every current and every acre and everything that drifts in the air and across the sea. Somehow everything will survive, and everything imaginable will someday exist.

Jordan Sullivan
Brooklyn, NY
Spring, 2018

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A convergence of birds
In erasing weather
Like traveling lights

How can something so distant feel this close

Ask the wind

Do I exist when no one is watching
Do I exist when I am surrounded
Did you exist before anyone knew

Can you measure the space between misunderstandings
And the distances between unnameable countries
Can we cross the geography of our memory
And climb rootless family trees

Can I hear the song of the last man who speaks a lost language

How long are the roads in eternity
How far apart are the letters of your name
How many acres make up your hidden garden
What about the gardens that don’t stop growing
And the gardens that will never grow
What about the gardens that were only imagined

And what is more real
The life that was or the life that was not
The dream life
Or life on earth
Is there a difference
Is Heaven on the ground

Will we ever know

We spend our days and nights watching animals make mistakes
Now that the ones who protected us are gone

All our gods and guardians are sick and tired

Who is watching us if the distant stars are just stars
Who will look after us if we are looking after the angels

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