There was something eluding the finality of the day.
An uneasiness tugging at the back of the brain
It kept me searching for answers
In places where answers had already fled.

Maybe there aren’t any answers
I could stop the questions
And free myself

A hawk flew by
His mate crying out
Completing rituals of eternity 

I pointed my camera
To the distant ridge
And it made a story
Of the everyday

Night’s love affair with day
When for a brief moment
They could bleed together
As one

Trail’s End

Black phoebe alights
Right in front of me
Her usual speed
Slowed down to infinity

Her wings
Completely Spread
A glint of seriousness
In her eyes

She is speaking
Something important
I cannot hear

As I rise the final steps
And turn to the east
I see of what she speaks
The path ending
Into a place called destiny

Where trees and clouds
Speak knowledge
From eons past
And harmony
Has never lost her power


When the sun goes down
There is an afterlight
Within the context of the artist
It is something to be pursued

We chase
After light

Not be confused
With afterlight
A relatively young word
At 215 years

Unused for some time
It registers misspelled
In autocorrect
Autocorrect registers misspelled
In autocorrect

oils on canvas 16″x20″ “Twilight”

Slow Coma

In the summer sun
We are all boisterous
Drunk with our own strength and beauty

Then comes that first day
Its coolness uncomfortable
Rabbit stays holed up

Tension fills the body
Constricted veins
Thicken skin like the tortoise

Fingers become nervous
Dancing earnestly
Anticipating the end

Ears, hair, nose
And become sails for the wind

Soon there will be ice
And we all do our part
For the return

Edge of Sleep

Meeting you is so sweet.
I have become somewhat self-conscious.

The only time you will see me
Is at night
Right, at that transitory moment.

When my eyes close
And the spinning begins.
The roar of wind encircles me

Standing on a world
In a sea of tumultuous waves
Debris spiraling in tornadic mayhem.

‘Til your words stop the violence
Trees and mountains fall into the sea
And we drink very strong tea together

single frame photo – polar coordinates and masking

Old Friend

Clouds rolled in mocking my presence.
Hiding your lovely face
Its luminescence
Haunting my dreams
To obsession. 

You said,
“You can love me,
But I belong to no one.
If you worship me
I will hate you
Don’t put me in a place
Where only seclusion
Would be my name.”

“I know,” I whispered. 
“I apologize.
Couldn’t help myself
It’s been so long.”

“I know too,” she said.
Our worth is found here
In this moment.
Clouds, roll away some
Let me see my friend.

Not so bad.”

(3) frame multiple exposures in-camera