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Connor Ryan

June 6th, 2021


A very warm welcome. I'm a writer, director, photographer, explorer and keen sailor (I yearn to passage the Atlantic... someday, somehow). I drink tea, I admire hand-made boots, and I am fond of woolen goods. A few of my inspirations include Tolkien, Tarkovsky, T.S. Eliot, Terrence Malick, Jan Troell, Dostoevsky, St. John the Beloved, and Jesus the Christ, among many others.

This website is a collection of my work, my artistic dispositions, and other precious things that I've managed enough courage to share. If something inspires you, or you have an idea to express, I urge you to reach out.

Remember the silence of tall grasses

And those days of yore

The dirt, the masses,

Underneath heaven’s store.


You could not endure 

A new millennium;

Taking with you

All your old treasures,

Your old troves,

And new measures:

For those groves

Were filled

With Un-light

And light unburdened.

The next day

You were heard,

And you will say,

Each day you will say:

Come again,

Look through this window

Breath this word.

But you will not go

And as the birds

You too will speak,

Not a creak.


Come again,

Watch long feathers fall,


And the twines



’T’won’t tell;

(Teeth of tubes)

Uttering foul words.


But you, 

Odd, graceful and slow,

You will utter,

And you will know.

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