Weekly Photo Challenge: Extra, Extra

BUZZ…Buzz_at_workThis 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 a coffee shop in Brighton, England.


Future Love Paradise


The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. 


Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. 


But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.

— William Blake

Borrow your treasure

Where shall I begin?

I took this photograph in Brighton, England in midwinter 2012.

So much has happened since that day.

Mercury has gone retrograde

The Olympics is on…

I started my Olympic scrapbook way back when…

before the internet

before instant messaging

and availability 24/7.

I’m humbled

by my birth certificate that says

I’m 47.

Instinctively I feel

my days are numbered.

I may not register any moment

beyond this


Bursting into Flames… And Then What?

I’m preparing for an encounter with the Brighton curator in my air shelter on Cross Street.

Something’s overlapping, I’m not sure what exactly.

Perhaps the line: “I’m a stationary sculpture, I’m meant to be broken” is causing friction when coupled with the sound of “Pay with Card” still ringing in my ears after my recent trip to Asda.

Whatever it is, something isn’t right. Some energy is amiss today. Have I been the victim of a deception? Have I allowed my partner’s emotions to whirl around me like a carousel?

Away from the ridiculousness, the museum staff is preparing for a group show on New Age hippie culture at the Brighton Royal Pavilion.

It’s my job to write the exhibition catalogue.

This is what I’ve written thus far…

“We’re all film extras in a holographic universe. After a night of lucid dreaming I wake up and reach for my vibrator.

We need healing, sound healing; not the kind of healing you find at Asda. But in saying that, I’m not the kind to mistake masturbation with salvation!

We live, we morph, we die. Did you fulfill your promise, today? You don’t need to be a call centre victim anymore, all the hours of the 24.

Brighton changes with every new wave of gentrification.  And then what?

In the New Age of Enlightenment, will the Brighton street names evolve? Will Shelley Road become Flying Yogi Street? Will Coleridge Street become known as: The Happiness Of Life Is Made Up Of Minute Fractions….”

Anyway, I must dash. The curator will be alongside me, momentarily.