Category: Prose

Restless

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Closing my eyes
What do I see?

I see the wind,
And the sun chasing shadows

A day, once a resounding choir
Now, only whispers

One of my favorite photographic spots from 2012. It still is a favorite. I’m pretty sure it still is. It is now a forbidden zone. It’s a dystopian nightmare, when people with power, so utterly gripped by fear who lead through fear bear down on the masses with ridiculous decisions.
I miss this place terribly, there is a hole in my heart.

Three photographs stitched and heavily edited.

DOTS

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Water lapped against the jetty
A helicopter roared at the Naval base
Jets blasted their goodbyes behind me
A million people sat down to dinner

As dwellers scurried in their walks
Their runs, their yoga, their fishing
Suddenly all time stopped
As the moon rose from behind the curtain

And reminded us
How small we really are,
That there are things much bigger
Than the sum of all of us

A throng of phone cameras ensued
The old man with two more generations fishing
Even the walked dogs
Stopped and were silent

It was all just too much
And just the right amount

Moon In The Garden

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The mask comes off
Compliant to hide
Without shame
Or justice

In a world
That now looks like
An old western
Stage coach robbery
Instigated
By the masses

Perhaps
We should all
Wear black hats

At this stagecoach stop
I find fences.
Like masks,
They let in a little light.

There are spots
Of floral beauty.
And up above
The moon grins wide.

Falling into a trance
With camera in hand
The transformative flush
Rushes through my brain
Like waves
Crashing on the beach
Cleansing out
The sticky muck
Of stress

Soon
The garden
The light
The moon
And I
Dance

The camera allows one to dispense of reality, and create new realities. An abomination for many purists. I have never thought for one second that photography can make one pure. Neither does its practice originate from a pure place. That does not make it impure. Seemingly a contradiction, only for those with chains and closed minds.
All photos are in-camera multiple exposures.

The Set:

Simple Knowledge

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We have been paralyzed
Dismembered from reality
From fear of the worst
Of things unseen
Yet knowable

Our spark
Threatened
Sends us running
Armed with knowledge
We police our neighbor’s stupidity

We will save ourselves
From this calamity
Then fall like leaves in autumn
Into a collective sigh
Of relief

Until next season.

I am not one to disobey governmental edicts. It has been many months since I have visited my favorite photography spots. Still closed. The span is over thirteen years that I have lingered in its forests and rejoiced by its waters edge. It is a place to decompress and come alive. Well….it was.
Soon I hope.
It is with simple microscopic knowledge that we have come to know viruses a little. Mixed with our fear of death we go straightaway to our basements and hide like mice and become mob-like. “Experts” are all over the place arguing and changing stories. Acknowledging we know very little, but just enough.