DOTS

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

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:

Tubular

To be specific
It’s the Pacific
That’s terrific

All photographs require “pre-visualization”.

Polar Coordinates is an action performed in Photoshop to create “tiny worlds”. In this case, I use the inexpensive Elements version. It requires a little clean up and manipulation….but is a bunch of fun, and mind bending results sometimes.

Subjugated

Honestly, I’m not sure
What to think
Of these days of uncertainty
As if uncertainty
Was never a part of our living
And dying
Are we so much wiser
Being able to see the unseeable
Panic filling our hearts
Pretending
To stave off the inevitable
Knowledge enough
To hide like mice?

We ask ourselves
Is it enough to be alive
While not living
By what measure
Will one consider
Infinity
Coming to that final conclusion
That realization of consciousness
That those things we can control
Should never
Control us?