Photographic Impressionistic Illusionistic
Photography Without Rules
It is all a blur now
Swift memories
Poking holes in my sightline
Clouds escape
Through my skin
Like water seeps
Through shaky fingers
Unfiltered
Vaporized
Returning to the sky
To rain once again
As tears
Of joy
Of sorrow
Into the iridescent pool
Of my very existence
Indeed it is our memories that make our lives what they are. They strengthen us and perhaps are not as unique, nor unused as we may think. Video – Photography- Narration – Ambient Music – me ©2019
It’s “funny”
To win an award
To wake the next morning
And everything
Is still the same
Reaching for recognition
Validating
Our existence
Our purpose
Our meaning
Standing in this dream
Waves are gentle
Quiet
Only the godwits stirring
An award, that changes
I did not recently win any awards. Just some thoughts tumbling around my “little gray cells”. Lensbaby
It has become so lush
So overgrown
It will wrap you up
In its green
Love it
Come for a short walk.
It rained again last night
And this morning
Uneventful for many
But in this dry place
Where we have starved
For the love of water
We jump out of sheer joy
Others we know
Far from here
Not too far from here
Have seen too much
Thus it is
And will always be
Water’s hand
A photo of my wife, just below Bridal Falls – Yosemite Valley.
She orders me not to post photographs of her on the web. I don’t think this one counts.
Not too much longer now
They will leave this place
For northern climes
This May has been extraordinarily busy for me. I made only my second entry of photographic work for the month last night.
That will change, like the coming and going of the swallows.
After a few hectic weeks, it felt good to let the sound of the river cover me while I mused at the whimsy of these little birds.
Photographic Impressionistic Illusionistic 