PAGE BEST VIEWED IF CELLPHONE IS TURNED HORIZONTAL.
Moments in life rotating between pain, joy, boredom and surprise, fleeting and ever changing.
Looking for that bedrock in which one’s feet solidly plant
Emotions coursing through the highways of the soul
Tears dropping from on high, unexpected and without the reason of logic
The years fly past, their shadow passing by like the falcon’s before the sun.
Lines on the face and the heart; scars of time and wisdom, growing deeper, becoming clearer
Any vestige of control, a mirage on the horizon
Dominoes falling, appearing orderly and organized, truly pushing deeper into chaos
Days getting colder, leaves falling from their branches
Elation coming at a pace, timing decided by an unseen clock, timing a machination of its own desire
Lovers transient in nature; every relationship finding its end
Hearts healing; never becoming whole once more
Sitting in a great hall; coming or going; stripped of all pretense. Watching dust dance on the sunrays; light spilling in through ancient rippled glass. Deep dark tones of oak wafting in the air, filling the nares. Illuminating memories of travelers who have previously passed along these paths. Silver tendrils rising from pipes that have long ago gone cold. Arrivals in the East. Departures in the West. Divested of possession. Warm and bare. Soul and body. Patiently waiting for a boarding call, destination unknown. Time to move on
Prepared, framed, and presented.
Rules of composition addressed, symmetry and balance sought and found.
Calm and collected, a mirror across an undisturbed surface.
Upside down, turned around and backwards.
Hiding flaws and insecurities.
A screen, security and protection provided.
Covering and shielding the petals of a flower; fragile and easily bruised.
Stunning in their imperfection, but aloof…
Can you see her?
Patches on her jeans, twigs in her hair.
In creating this magazine, I've had more people tell me that I can't do it then I can. In the end you know your friends, know who and who is not in your corner. The drive? To merge images with words, to give insight into what you feel an image represents. In my corner it's a simple magazine. In Daniel Love's corner, he has made it his art. He has taken his images, and merged them into poetry. Each tangible writing, represents what the images says to him, what perks his thoughts and feelings. I so well understand his drive in doing this.