All storms come at will
Testing determination
Head down keep pushing
multiple exposures in camera photograph
Inevitable
Author: Mark Wade
Still attached to a day job. It pays the bills and has been a great asset in life.
When that is not occurring, I make photographic art in many forms....without adherence to any philosophical tyranny. Love to paint, mixed media 2D pieces at my leisure. Still working on some pieces that have evolved over a period of years. Art for me is not on the clock (mostly).
Webs and Goldenrod
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
Inside Out
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
Thought for Thursday
Criticisms based on opinion are useless when the objectives are unknown by those holding themselves in high esteem.
Trust
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.
Black Coffee
I was born in the city
Not too far away from here
People come to call me
There ain’t nobody here
Then you came a-knockin’
Done rattled on my door
And ever since that fateful day
You dropped me to the floor
If you ever think you’re gonna go
You just better let me know
‘Cause I hate drinkin’ my coffee black
Sittin’ here all alone
Baby you’re the sweetener
Baby you’re the cream
If you told me you were leavin’ now
You know I’d have to scream
Make me some of that coffee baby
Just make it any old way you want
It’s alright with me
Make me some espresso, I don’t care
It’s all good to me!
Next week is our 38th wedding anniversary….so I wrote this for my baby.
Poor thing, she doesn’t drink much coffee any more….but every now and then, we sit over a long cup.
The song….(just a jam)
Anticipation
It was 2011.
I was making photographs of crows.
Off in the distance
Some 500 meters
A black cloud.
Like a monochrome
Psychedelic mass
Changing
Yet united
Watching
Abandoning the shot
Mesmerized
At the gracefulness
Of the hundreds
Of little bodies
Now walking
Increasing speed
Running
To the phenomenon
Trees blocking my view
Panting
They’re right overhead!
Peculiar calls
Bank left
Floof!
Was the sound
Just above the treeline
SWOOSH!
The roar of 500 pairs of wings
So excited
Camera fumbling
Check settings
Raised and ready
Nothing
They were gone!
But they are animals
Animals are habitual
I’ll be back tomorrow
Oh yeah,
You’d better believe
I’ll be back tomorrow!
Such was the beginning of my photographic journey to include starlings in my multiple exposure pieces. Starlings, the dreaded invader-bird. To watch them murmurate will change the heart. It is a wonder to behold.
Will they return this year? We will see before too long…their numbers have been diminished over the years and I fear those few first years will not be replicated again.
