Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Paradise Lost


















"Solitude sometimes is best society"

Monday, February 18, 2019

Analogue Forever


















Thank you to Julie Dean, executive director of the Los Angeles Center of Photography for selecting these two of my photographs for the Analogue Forever exhibition.

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Friday, February 1, 2019

"You were only waiting for this moment to arise"

























"Blackbird fly, blackbird fly,
 Into the light of the dark black night"
 Lennon - McCartney

Thursday, January 31, 2019

"To turn the chaos of experience into a set of manageable symbols"

























-4 and freezing fog
blackbirds commove
cracks grass underfoot
in the dense morning air
a cloud of silent words
escape me


Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

The Peace of Wild Things

























When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Wendel Berry

Thursday, January 3, 2019

"The only journey is the one within"
























"I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other"
Rainer Maria Rilke - Letters to a young poet

Friday, December 28, 2018

Corporeal




Friday, December 21, 2018

Cruising Paradise - for Sam Shepard

                                            Moss      winter    2018

Thursday, December 20, 2018

December

























I lie on my bed and stare out through the vertical blinds into the smoky white sky, and try to hold onto a single thought.
Nothing comes.
Everything is static and I can't find the answer that I need.
It's like I'm standing at the edge of a long tunnel, calling out into the dark and the only thing I hear is the echo of my own voice trailing off into the blackness.

Tuesday, December 18, 2018

The end of the road


Monday, December 17, 2018

Saturday, December 1, 2018

Insignificance

















"The man I am writing about is not famous. It may be that he never will be. It may be that when his life at last comes to an end he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on earth than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water."
W. Somerset Maugham - The Razor's Edge

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Epeius

























Nobody can save you but yourself. You will be put time and time again into nearly impossible situations. They will attempt again and again through subterfuge, guise and force to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly inside. Nobody can save you but yourself.
Charles Bukowski

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Friday, November 23, 2018

Santa Fe


come per incanto


Saturday, November 17, 2018

Thursday, November 15, 2018

For Alena

























Alena Kolosarova 1928 - 2018
Rest in Peace

Ίρις

























"And now Iris, fleet as the wind, was sent by Jove to tell the bad news among the Trojans."

The Iliad Book II

Tuesday, November 13, 2018

The road east


Who were you yesterday,
blowing through the curtain in my memory

me estas mirando?


Friday, November 9, 2018

A fire on the horizon




















He stood on the beach and watched the black water splash on the frozen sand like a million unanswered cries for help. The dementia of overwhelming loss gripped his heart and it left him impotent on the shore. He closed his eyes and thought of her somewhere far away and he imagined her smooth skin reflected on the water caught in tiny fragments of perfectly distorted beauty and piece by piece the images of that world slipped and slid in the tide and were taken away. He screamed at the ocean until every last drop of energy left his weary bones and when he had finished and after he had emptied his soul out into that void at the edge of time he started to cry.

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

voice

                                                              Kissing Oaks      Moss       Yorkshire



















A persons voice triggers a much more complex, intimate and expressive connection that a photograph can.

Sunday, October 28, 2018

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Thursday, October 18, 2018

sometimes

























Sometimes I wonder if I am nothing more than a collection of memories

Monday, October 15, 2018

This is the way I look at the world




















from darkness to light

Friday, October 12, 2018

Solaris - a love story

























“What is art? ... Like a declaration of love: the consciousness of our dependence on each other. A confession. An unconscious act that none the less reflects the true meaning of life—love and sacrifice.” 
- Andrei Tarkovsky

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Roads


Wednesday, October 10, 2018

10 - 10 - 10


                                            Moss           Yorkshire          2018


Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Monday, October 8, 2018

La Jetée




Sunday, October 7, 2018

A Wild Sheep Chase


























"Some things are forgotten, some things disappear, some things die"
- Haruki Murakami, A Wild Sheep Chase

Saturday, October 6, 2018

Canada geese