Where's the breath...

It seems that nature is my lover. Every so often she calls and I respond. I grab the gear, jump in the car and drive in the direction that whispers. I never know exactly what my lover has in store, or where we'll meet to move and breathe and touch, to kiss the wind, to dance through the sand and accept the ancient quivering current... When I return home, to rest a while and bask through the frames of our liaison, I want to offer the jewels … could it be my lover is also yours?

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.