Creating the extraordinary out of ordinary things

I find myself often revisiting places to take photos. I used to be hesitant in doing this because.. if I’ve already been there taking photos, there can’t be any photos left to take, right? But I actually have found that this is a great exercise for improving my photography, since I’m driven to look past…

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Roots | 35mm film photography

As I’ve definitely mentioned several times, I love photographing nature. But trees have been something I often shied away from, since I never really knew how to photograph them well to highlight their beauty. They always seemed far more extraordinary and amazing in real life. But… here are some pictures I recently took of trees!…

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Ragged and Unruly – A Photography series | The inspire diaries #1

This is a series of film photographs of ragged and unruly nature landscapes as inspired by the photographer: Dave Rothschild. I have been intrigued by his work for quite some time now and decided when I finally loaded a black and white roll of film into my camera, to give it a go!

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Writing poems with song lyrics

Trees watch those who feel midnight on their wings silhouetted against dust and perilous dreams- walking through drearily sweeping loneliness. Moonbeams purple in windows and eyes, sweet lilac wonder sings above the sky. Hands bottle every dusty pleasure, forgotten timeless souls, imagination running wild, butterflies settle caught in their mind.

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April/May Snapshot on 35mm film

This is an assortment of photos (posted pretty much in order) I took throughout April and May on film. I shot 2 rolls of Kodak Colourplus 200 film and one roll of Kodak 400Tmax Black and White Film, and I’ve picked some of my favourites to share. It’s the first time I’ve ever used Tmax…

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Fleeting Flowers – A poem

Even the pinkest pinks will fade
Eventually, perhaps to a dusty rose,
The open becomes closed, even
The prettiest flower will cease to glow.

Bold days turn to cold days, even the smoothest
Petals fold, soon brown replaces gold,
A shrivelled insignificance falls to the dirt,
But leaves space for a new bud to grow.

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Squeaky Clean – A poem

Immersed in bubble bath scents
And sensations, I breathe,
I breathe, I breathe deeply,
And the water softens my skin
And the warmth softens my mind.
In with fresh oxygen and out with
A build up of grime.

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All eyes but my own – A poem

a rusted reflection,
speckled and smudged

to wipe away is only
to smear the picture

a sun-bright ghost
in a hazy window

obscured by the dusty
remnants of raindrops

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The state of it all – A poem

we stumble home through
dully lamp lit streets at 1 am
hand in hand with wobbly feet
cool night air cleansing fuzzy heads,

sometimes we sit on the edge of
the world (or it feels like it),
the city glitters, it’s colourful
even in the darkness,

window glows and street lamps
are mere scintillas of light
trying to mirror the stars,
and if they look small, then what am I?

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A pink skirt with golden stars – A poem

a soft silky mesh with glittery golden stars,
pale pink, it draped to my touch,
it cut crisply with the scissors and suddenly
I was a girl again,
twirling in my princess skirt –
my own soft pale pink mesh with glittery golden stars

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