Drawn in, drawn under
To touch and taste the fruit so rude and bursting green.
Only it's not.
Hard fig of hope rotting before it ripened.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Rotting unripe
Underworld
Drawn in, drawn under
To touch and taste the fruit so rude and bursting green.
Only it's not.
Hard fig of hope rotting before it ripened.
Drawn in, drawn under
To touch and taste the fruit so rude and bursting green.
Only it's not.
Hard fig of hope rotting before it ripened.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Crowning amber
Burnt dry haze
Vast
Open
Wind waves soar through brittle scape
Laying down to rest
A bed for open nothing, open vast
A curving path through brittle nothing
Amber fire crowns the untrod scrub
Rudely shining forth in all its ordinary glory
Stops me in my track
Demands I look
Demands I see
As its burnt open nothing fills me.
Vast
Open
Wind waves soar through brittle scape
Laying down to rest
A bed for open nothing, open vast
A curving path through brittle nothing
Amber fire crowns the untrod scrub
Rudely shining forth in all its ordinary glory
Stops me in my track
Demands I look
Demands I see
As its burnt open nothing fills me.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Cave by the sea
Slow unfolding, gentle friend
There in the end
In the cave by the sea
With me.
Jewels reveal themselves,
One at a time
Colours deepening
Light flashes showing up beauty
Here... here... here ...
There in the end
In the cave by the sea
With me.
Jewels reveal themselves,
One at a time
Colours deepening
Light flashes showing up beauty
Here... here... here ...
Finally, after two years without a camera, I have one in my hands again - what joy!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Beckoning
Shimmering, enticing, waiting for me. Snakes in the grass below, ankle deep in water and still I keep walking in .. white to white .. pristine, shimmering gathering of spirits.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Still winter
This year I really felt winter; a cavernous gorge-space between heartbeats ... the old gone and not yet any thought, sense or whisper of new. A powerful nothingness. Open, bare.
It felt good to have my awareness in this place, not to rush change, but to be with the barren, unbarren.
These pics taken on a trip to Canberra to visit the talented and lovely Kaylia, musing through the country here. Stay tuned for some of Kaylia's powerful poetry later.
It felt good to have my awareness in this place, not to rush change, but to be with the barren, unbarren.
These pics taken on a trip to Canberra to visit the talented and lovely Kaylia, musing through the country here. Stay tuned for some of Kaylia's powerful poetry later.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Eros and the Tree
That morning, sunlight streaming, fragrant oils lifting away layers, opening in readiness ... a girlfriend and I had planned a photographic project, nude portraiture, turning the camera on each other as moments transpired and aspects of self came forward.
The shoot was postponed and I drove north into the bush, everywhere seeing bland sameness of trees and scrub, perfect backdrop to nude figures, but no figures.
Moving more deeply into the bush, a call to the right ... the late afternoon sun has entered a scribble bark tree and lit the precious amber juices it shares.
Bronze travellings ...
A flying thing now caught in forever becoming amber...
Un-coy, she simply is, dark mystery open to all who pass by...
The shoot was postponed and I drove north into the bush, everywhere seeing bland sameness of trees and scrub, perfect backdrop to nude figures, but no figures.
Moving more deeply into the bush, a call to the right ... the late afternoon sun has entered a scribble bark tree and lit the precious amber juices it shares.
Bronze travellings ...
A flying thing now caught in forever becoming amber...
Un-coy, she simply is, dark mystery open to all who pass by...
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