Tag Archives: beauty

Winging it

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One of the hazards of taking the camera out for one reason is that it never goes back into the closet.

Taking a cue from the deliciously mild temperatures but dazzling sun yesterday, I took a wander over to see my grandparents at a nearby cemetery. On the way, I wandered through a small dose of wetlands to find some feathered friends.

Anger after Robin William’s passing

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A couple of days have passed since Robin William’s death and although I still cannot accept the truth of it, I have somewhat resigned myself to that truth.

Shortly after the event, as I watched the public response, I found myself getting upset. The following post, written the night of his passing, explains those feelings. If you read on, please read all of the post as I don’t want to hear anyone’s comments unless they have read all that I have to say below. 

 

I’m angry. I’m angry at all of the people who want to turn my grief into some sort of life lesson.

The death of Robin Williams from depression isn’t a parable, it’s not a morality play, it doesn’t serve a purpose; so stop throwing literature and comments about depression and the availability of help at me.

This is a man who made millions laugh. A man who struggled throughout his life with demons and who worked with and around those demons to make beautiful art. A man who had loved ones and raised children.

A man who touched my heart and mind and soul. A man who taught me that it was okay to misbehave, to act out. That to be frenetic could also be to be focused. That you can love and be livid with the world and its people at the same time.

And now that man is gone, and I want to mourn. I want to wallow in my memories of the joy and tears that he brought to my life. I want to remember the man.

I don’t want to rationalize his passing. I don’t want to find meaning in his death. I don’t want to learn a lesson.

I want to grieve, to storm, to wail, to laugh, to love.

But I am not the only one in mourning.

I know the people who post information about depression and mental health, who list hotlines and web sites, are doing that as part of their grieving process. They are doing what they have to do to process Robin’s death.

They are doing what is right for them as I am doing what is right for me. Pain is a self-centred thing.

Perhaps in a day…or two…or ten, I will be able to see their side a little better, but for now, I just want to hurt…and remember…and smile.

In the meantime, forgive me if I snarl.

Crème de Glace

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So beautiful

So beautiful

Leaving the house to go to work,

I open my door to find

My world transformed.

Branches of the trees

Hang a little lower

In the cold morning air,

Suffering the burden

Of a coat transparent.

The rains of late evening

Have been transformed

As o’ernight mercury fell,

And the harsh rough bark

Gained a smooth icy coat,

Glimmers in the early light of day.

 

Droplets that formed

On branch tips and boughs

Are caught in tableaux,

Diamonds reaching out

To cut glace.

In the modest light of morn,

An explosion of stars

As branches dance

On the breeze,

And the horizon is littered

With silvers and golds

Of ice and leaves yet true.

 

An image in transition.

The day is a busy one.

As the run rises higher

And the ebon bark

Absorbs Helios’ glow,

The ice will melt;

Diamonds lost forever,

Stars fallen to earth.

And we’ll await

Another day,

Other magical illusions.

(Written 17 years ago, this seems appropriate today.)

Canada Day relaxations

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Thank goodness the Fathers of Confederation picked July 1 as the day to form the Dominion of Canada.

The thought of possibly celebrating on something like February 3 literally sends shivers down my spine and would have kept me from getting any pictures of people just relaxing on the warm summer’s day.

Off guard

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The tiniest of movements,

Almost imperceptible,

At the corner of her mouth

Told me all I needed.

She had heard me.

Her eyes resolute,

Focused keenly

On the wall ahead;

Tremulous in fear lest

She give herself away.

Pulse quickened.

Breathing changed.

Hands once relaxed

Now firmly planted

To still nervous thighs.

And so I repeat,

“I love you”

(Image used without permission mostly just to keep you guessing.)

Sunshine Award

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Well, aren’t I the lucky fellow?

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I have been nominated for the Sunshine Award by fellow blogger Kira Lyn Blue, a self-describe overanalyzer, ninja squirrel wrangler and urban fantasy author. On that last one, I’m not sure if that means city-dweller who writes stories of the fantastic or if she writes stories about urban fantasy’s like clean air, functional infrastructure, no traffic and mayors who govern rather than politic.

Based on her request for more pics and poetry, it would seem that Kira Lyn is a fan of my less pedantic offerings, which is completely acceptable to me. In fact, because my photography and poetry is more of an artistic endeavour, I am highly flattered that she has asked for more.

And, if I understand correctly, the award is recognition for those who positively and creatively inspire other bloggers, so I am doubly humbled by the honour she has bestowed on me.

So, apparently the rules of the game include: posting the logo (lovely it is); linking to my nominator; answering 10 questions (see below); nominating 10 others (including links and comments) and informing them they have been nominated (see further below).

I give you these fifteen—oy—TEN, ten commandments, I mean questions:

Favourite colour: Orange…Hallowe’en is the bomb!

Favourite animal: Ferret…because I think I identify with an animal that can be extremely smart and stupid at the same time.

Favourite number: 13…anything that irrationally unnerves people is incredibly sexy to me.

Favourite non-alcoholic drink: Coffee…although I’ve seen plenty of alcoholics drink it, so I don’t know if it counts.

Favourite alcoholic drink: Beer…preferably porters or stouts.

Facebook or Twitter: Twitter…would have said FB, but liking the discipline involved in 140 characters, only a third of whom are funny

My passions: Humour, love, being…not to be all flower-child, but it took a long time for this answer not to be Nutella (which still runs a close 4th)

Giving or receiving gifts: Always giving…but not above receiving.

Favourite city: Montreal…sorry to my home of Toronto, but we stick-up-the-ass Ontarians need to learn how to relax and stop destroying our frickin’ heritage.

Favourite TV shows: Your Show of Shows, The Black Adder (series), House (the early seasons)

And now for something completely boorish…bloggish!:

Storiesbyfrancis – this woman has a beautiful soul and constantly makes me smile

Drawings, Paintings and Other Art – amazingly delicate artwork that lets the viewer bring their own thoughts to the table

Leanne Cole Photography – stunning architectural photos

Ned’s Blog – Unnervingly amusing and would have been a competitor in a previous life (the bastard!)

Julian Froment’s Blog – his zeal for reading and writing is infectious

Licht Years – incredibly delicate and uplifting photography

Abandoned Kansai – photographing the echoed lives of dead places

Pondering It All – poetry of great simplicity and yet incredible depth

Victoriously – a beautiful woman bravely sharing her personal demons with the world

Honeydobliss – 3 young women pre-emptively taking on midlife crises to do it right the first time(s)

Water course

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Despite our best efforts to stage life with garden ponds, nature has a way of making them her own in very short order.

I find myself enraptured by the epic stories told in such confined spaces, losing hours of my life in these mythic displays.

(These photos were taken in Montreal; Volcan Arenal, Costa Rica; Kona Kailua, Hawaii)

Write…as rain

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I write.

I write because I love playing with words.

I write because my head will explode if I don’t.

I write to explore ideas.

I write because I’m interested in a lot of stuff.

I write because I’m a narcissist.

I write because the stories flow through me.

I write because I’m funny (some of the time).

I write because I have thoughts worth expressing.

I write because the blank page beckons.

I write to release my pain.

I write to share my joy.

I write to add beauty to the world.

I write to keep moving.

I write to share the magnificent visions I see.

I write to exorcise and exercise the voices.

I write to play.

I write because I am a writer.

 

Why do you?