Our vanishing act is a spectrum of messages tiptoeing the resonance frequency. Body of light and energy. The sun glares at us. We stare back.
South African poet Willie Kgositsile posited the necessity of putting aside poetry in the face of looming revolution. “When the moment hatches in time’s womb there will be no art talk,” he wrote. “The only poem you will hear will be the spearpoint pivoted in the punctured marrow of the villain….Therefore we are the lastContinue reading “#BlackLivesMatter”
… and pondering the deaths of some of my beloved friends in Sierra Leone. Victims of Ebola… or a fate worse than death?
Where does peace start? In Mahatma Gandhi’s book “The Story of My Experiments With Truth.” Gandhi said: “When every hope is gone, ‘when helpers fail and comforts flee,’ I find that help arrives somehow, from I know not where. Supplication, worship, prayer are no superstition; they are acts more real than the acts of eating,Continue reading “#NoMoreWar”
BUZZ…This week’s WordPress Photo Challenge asks us to share a photograph with something extra; something with unexpected detail that makes that image all the more special. For me … the unexpected detail is in this man’s expression. The sadness embedded in his concentration. This is a photograph of my friend “Buzz” writing poetry outside aContinue reading “Weekly Photo Challenge: Extra, Extra”
A classroom in a village school in Hastings, Sierra Leone, West Africa. Sierra Leone is struggling to get back on its feet after a devastating civil war that lasted more than a decade. I took these photographs in May 2014.The civil war ended in 2002.
Imagine yourself born with a different skin colour. Which colour(s) would you superimpose onto your DNA? Who’s looking at you now? Do you feel your privileges taken away? Do you feel enlightened? At peace? On top of the world? As rich as can be? Experimental? Full of promise? A ghost? On the A-List?
Treat with care a still image that an actor could bring to life. A black-and-white photograph of a baby Held at arms-length by a midwife – the girl that nobody wanted – who had little choice but to re-enact this dream called life. Is it possible to be born again? To REBIRTH? An angel isContinue reading “Rebirth”
Where do we go when we die on the inside? Do we rupture our attachment to family? Our daily bread? Our ability to mimic breath? Jean-Michel Basquiat died of a heroin overdose at the age of 27 in 1988. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/14/weekly-photo-challenge-inside-2/