I love the serendipity of a found collage – images that have been created by random poster-stickers, graffiti artists, a scattering of pebbles in a pleasingly random way, a mosaic, bark peeling off the trunk of a tree, a whirl of fallen leaves or scattered flower petals.
These are some of the photos I’ve taken of posters in France
in response to the Daily Post
If you open your eyes you’ll see frames wherever you look, some natural, some man-made. I often seek out frames to use in my photography, they can provide a glimpse into another world.
a doorframe in Turkey with a quote by Rumi
the roman archway frames a view into a modern part of Tarsus, Turkey
the covered market in Tarsus
lanterns frame a view of Goreme, Cappadocia, Turkey
Esrefoglu mosque, Turkey
the abandoned village of Kaya, Turkey
looks like there will be a good hazel nut harvest this year
bee on a teasel
thistledown
Queen Anne’s lace
Partners and partnerships come in many forms:
the twin towers of Hangar 7, Salzburg
a street musician in Salzburg
a man and his bicycle in Salzburg
the most sublime partnership – chocolate cake and coffee in the Café Sacher, Salzburg
fruits for the future
This tiny seed
will hopefully produce a blaze of colourful geraniums like this
hopefully these walnut catkins will produced a good crop of nuts
and this pomegranate flower will ripen into a beautiful pomegranate
Early in 2013 we spent a month touring India, most of the time in Rajasthan. The section of the journey between Udaipur and the Kumbalgarh fortress and thence to Ranakpur was the most special for me, for here we passed through a land that time seemed to have forgotten. Water was drawn up from wells by oxen and women collected and carried water in pots that they carried on their heads. We passed arid hills covered with thorn bushes, lowland areas in the river valleys bright green with early crops and here and there splashes of colour from the saris of the women working in the fields.
How often do poems and music combine? Ever since I learned to sing “Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven,” by William Butler Yeats it was always one of my favourite poems/songs, (listen to it here) , closely followed by Robert Frost’s “Stopping by woods on a snowy evening”.
Stopping by woods on a snowy evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
sharing with the Daily Post
