The sun goes down while
The colour goes up
And it’s a beauty
A flood of neon yellow
The colour goes up
And it’s a beauty
A flood of neon yellow
How does the physics do that?
Category: Creation Tales
In the ebony hills, an ivory city.
This is no tourist destination. It is a small, busy, virile town of subtle charm like so many other small, busy, virile towns. You will never discover the charms if you arrive on the train and depart on the next bus.
Remember Me
In the dusky hour, the shops and stalls closed up for the night. The day’s crowds still dwindling as I wander the streets.
I am in Kashgar’s thrall. Its people, its buildings, its colours, its smells. Its efficient simplicity, driven by foot and hoof on these back alleys and lanes. The smiles; the furrowed brows; the twinkling eyes, the hard glares: of shopkeepers and shoppers.
Ghosts in the Sound
On a day flattened white
By wildfire and sunshine
I go hunting
For ghosts in the Sound
By wildfire and sunshine
I go hunting
For ghosts in the Sound
My Muses: Ruins
What I love about ruins most is the gestures of grandeur or utility they once were, the stories of their use, of their place in a time and society which no longer exists. I love them for the markers of history they are, here, now — in the present — how they act as transporters to another time, another place.
My Muses: Geology
My Muses: Geology ~ In the best moments, like on the edge of the San Juan River gorge, that is the transformation I take with me, that feeling of personal divinity, as if I had touched the hand that makes perfection.
My Muses: Paint
This week’s WordPress Photo Challenge, Muse, poses a simple enough challenge, “So what’s your muse — what subject do you turn to frequently, more inspired each time?”
I’ve already responded with Function follows Form, which relates how form itself is my favourite subject. Here I want to draw back to my favourite element with which to explore form — and a variety of other subjects — and that has to be paint. When I bought my first professional camera in nearly 15 years, the first shots were all painted surfaces. Some abstractions. Others records of communication. Still others were essays on the environment in which the surface was painted.
Leap of Faith
There is a place in Zion National Park. Angel’s Landing awaits you at the peak of a narrow band of rock thousands of feet tall. As exasperatingly beautiful as the view is, the hike … the hike is neither for the faint of heart, nor the squeamish of heights.
Pix to Words 