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!…Read More
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!Read More
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.Read More
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…Read More
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.
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.
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
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?
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
I can never sleep when the moon is full
Sometimes I wonder if part of me is wolf.
Maybe just a bud of wolf’s-heart that could
Flower if I let it, or maybe it’s a key in a lock
That I just need to turn to let the wolf in.