New Site

I am in the process of building a new website:

comments are appreciated:

http://dominicbraccoii.sites.livebooks.com/

Gambia

I just got back from Gambia where I was working as a sound man and grip on a story on international investment. The 12 day shoot went great and we are all back safe stateside....now I am going to go somewhere else...but i dont know where that is yet haha.

On the Road

So tonight I plan on leaving D.C. for three months to work on a project about America or something like it. I don't really have a clue where I am going although I am starting in Bland, Va. I don't know yet exactly what I will focus on or what exactly I plan on saying - if anything. Funny thing is this trip is a mirror to my present state of mind. I don't really have a destination, just hoping to figure things out along the way. Cheers

Dominic

UPDATE:I am not leaving yet because my sub letter just flaked out.

UPDATE:I am just going to completely move out - I gave away all of my things and am heading out.

Dance.

I am going to make a new blog probably.

Happy Easter

scary.

Awards Ceremony at Kennedy Center

I did an assignment at the Kennedy Center for The Washington Post. Here are two pix that are a little bit more of me being me.

Tuna!

Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market

Among the market greens,
a bullet
from the ocean
depths,
a swimming
projectile,
I saw you,
dead.

All around you
were lettuces,
sea foam
of the earth,
carrots,
grapes,
but
of the ocean
truth,
of the unknown,
of the
unfathomable
shadow, the
depths
of the sea,
the abyss,
only you had survived,
a pitch-black, varnished
witness
to deepest night.

Only you, well-aimed
dark bullet
from the abyss,
mangled
at one tip,
but constantly
reborn,
at anchor in the current,
winged fins
windmilling
in the swift
flight
of
the
marine
shadow,
a mourning arrow,
dart of the sea,
olive, oily fish.
I saw you dead,
a deceased king
of my own ocean,
green
assault, silver
submarine fir,
seed
of seaquakes,
now
only dead remains,
yet
in all the market
yours
was the only
purposeful form
amid
the bewildering rout
of nature;
amid the fragile greens
you were
a solitary ship,
armed
among the vegetables
fin and prow black and oiled,
as if you were still
the vessel of the wind,
the one and only
pure
ocean
machine:
unflawed, navigating
the waters of death.

Pablo Neruda