All storms come at will
Testing determination
Head down keep pushing
multiple exposures in camera photograph
Photographic Impressionistic Illusionistic
Photography Without Rules
All storms come at will
Testing determination
Head down keep pushing
multiple exposures in camera photograph
There are secrets on the trail
Quiet and subdued
A certain color
Or refraction of light
A specific scent
Sent to trigger memories
It looks like dirt
Or dead leaves
Stagnant water waiting
For the rush beyond
The strength to withstand
Revealing old newness
All those things
In us
About us
Through us
What we are
What we are to become
Webs cross my face
Deep within lines
Already drawn
One for each year
Chill in the bones
A sleeping resurgence
As vague
As hair growing
This slow melting
The longest yawn
Can be seen
Through the trees
Just there
Beyond reach
Untouchable
Unconsciously palpable
oils on canvas 12″x12″
trees are the last to give in….in the forest, we can watch it on the natural screen,
framed for our liking…a movie not to be missed, playing worldwide….one showing only
Criticisms based on opinion are useless when the objectives are unknown by those holding themselves in high esteem.
Hollow words
Fall like leaves
Orange and yellow
Vibrantly dead
You won’t use them
With me
Traveling to the sea
I left you sleeping
Looking for answers
To unknown questions
Standing in its power
Wishing I could be swept away
Under its power and might
My fear bleeding into the undertow
It haunts my dreams
This body of overwhelming force
Its understanding, just beyond reach
She beckons me
“Come to me, and just let it all go”
Emptied
I journey home
Hoping to find you
Watering potted flowers
Some things you trust because it has been earned, other things you trust because it has the power to consume you, but gives you the opportunity to release your anxieties…without asking much in return…and you walk away the better for it.
I will never fully understand what it is about the ocean that makes me feel whole. Perhaps the beating heart sounds of the earth, or the salty taste of the environment….like sweat, blood, tears….amniotic fluid. She is both my mother and my father in my dreams, depending on the context and what my gut is experiencing.
A lovely strangeness…a mystery to enjoy, never to be fully revealed…a love affair experienced for anyone who ventures behind her veil.