r/Sizz • u/IgotBanned_pk21 • 2h ago
r/Sizz • u/asiwasmovingahead_ • 9h ago
Photo Night Procession, 2014-2017 | Stephen Gill
“Night Procession is the first series Gill created after his move to Sweden in 2014. Shot entirely at night, the series captures the nocturnal life near Gill’s new home of rural southern Sweden and reveals a stunning parallel world usually hidden from human view.” (shashasha)
More photographs from Night Procession in this week’s edition of As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty, my newsletter on modern and contemporary art.
r/Sizz • u/Modern-Classical • 1d ago
OC | No Criticism A Frame from a Film That Never Existed
12 / 10 / 2026
r/Sizz • u/Magicbandit • 1d ago
OC | No Criticism Enter, waiting, Blur, Jesus Saves [OC]
r/Sizz • u/AlertBug7075 • 3d ago
OC | No Criticism “Seems a nice place to wait for something that has already passed.” (OC, photo by me)
r/Sizz • u/kklaus115 • 4d ago
OC | Criticism Encouraged Threw Obsidian
Just a picture I took at Newberry Caldera OR just after sunset with my phone.
Hope you all get some positive change in your lives.
Like I have. 👍 I love this world.
r/Sizz • u/__farawayplaces__ • 4d ago
OC | Criticism Encouraged YOU CAN'T SET FIRE TO FLAMES . (AM270326P)
r/Sizz • u/Modern-Classical • 5d ago
OC | No Criticism Searching for the perfect view
16 / 10 / 2026
r/Sizz • u/Yuambient • 6d ago
OC | No Criticism Geo-Poetry: Attributable Kolkata [2026] by Yuambient oc
Upon this cold and aggregate expanse,
A history is written, etched by chance.
The grey, a memory of a harder stone,
Is fading now, its core is being known.
A ghost of a movement, a passage of light,
Is marked in these smears, so pale and so white.
Like frost upon a window, or a spirit's embrace,
Erosion’s fine finger has left this faint trace.
Scattered among the pale, the twigs and the dry leaves,
Are reminders of life that the ground still receives.
The passage of seasons, the touch of the sun,
Have broken and polished, till many are one.
This texture is silence, a story of wear,
A poem of patience, hanging in the air.
Not empty, but full of the moments that passed,
A fleeting impression, designed not to last.
Look closer, and see what the elements know:
In every worn surface, new patterns can grow.
A landscape in miniature, weathered and grey,
Where time leaves its footprint, and then fades away.