put your dirty angel face
between my legs
and knicker lace
– lyrics from twist by goldfrapp
tormented
whenever
i
sleep,
that
ending,
depending
a (late) and twisted contribution to this week’s wordpress weekly photo challenge
*image shot with Fujifilm x100f and fixed 23mm (34mm full frame equivalent) lens, ISO1600 f3.6 and 1/25s*
a poem, some unedited rain, and a slice of plath
i woke to the sound of rain
― sylvia plath, the bell jar
see me
the face
in the rain
see me
the fingers
on the pane
see me
before
i am
wiped
away
*one of a series of shots made in salamanca with my ancient olympus om10, with zuiko 50mm f/1.8 lens, and loaded with ilford xp2 super ISO 400 film*
‘whispered something in your ear
it was a perverted thing to say
but I said it anyway
made you smile and look away’
– lyrics from ‘nothing’s gonna hurt you baby’, cigarettes after sex
once upon,
a time
each story
began
in gentle tones
no broken bones
later,
gingerbread,
blood red
tales of death
and terror
stalked my,
dreams
later, still
each story
began, in torchlight
and fright
what right,
had i
and now,
each story,
ends before,
it begins
as life,
unwinds
for wordpress weekly photo challenge – story
*image shot in salamanca, españa, with fujifilm x100f with 23mm (35mm fill frame equivalent) lens at ISO500, f/4 and 1/300s with added effects applied in analog efex pro 2*
This post features a diminutive lady called Lucy, an emperor by the name of Haile, a few flip-flop wearing parasol bearing clerics, the Red Terror, Sylvia the suffragette, some spicy sauce, and St. George (or at least an eponymous beer).
You have been warned.
This week, Ben Huberman‘s challenge for the WordPress Weekly Photo challenge is ‘out of this world‘.
In framing his challenge Ben suggested that we ‘share a photo that takes a familiar scene — a place you frequent, a face you know well, an activity you engage in regularly — and makes it look and feel like something out of this world’.
I’ve always had a slight problem in answering the (right) question, or at least reading the question and then coming up with an appropriate answer.
In any event, Ben also said ‘Feel free to interpret the theme as loosely as you see fit. I look forward to seeing your photos!’. So, in a lazy moment, characterised by a certain slice of synchronicity, I found a hook for framing a post that I was going to write anyway.
The problem with my world at the moment is that the places I frequent fluctuate with a frenetic and feverish frequency. And the activity that I seem to engage in with the greatest frequency is that of being a frequent flyer.
Which is a rather long-winded way of sharing some snaps from my latest adventure. It’s not ‘out of this world’ but it was a new part of the world for me.
And I think that must count for something?
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
– Sylvia Plath
A face in the crowd, for the WordPress Weekly photo challenge
in his
eyes
not (under), his
eye
what will,
unfold,
*shot with fujifim x100f with 23mm (35mm fixed frame equivalent) lens at ISO1600, f/5.6 and 1/170 at the tate modern in London*
Death, therefore, the most awful of evils, is nothing to us, seeing that, when we are, death is not come, and, when death is come, we are not.
– Epicurus
we chase it
for eternity
yet, what do we lose
in our (endless)
chase
for, that
serene
(moment)
and
can
we find
it
before that
door
closes?
a dark slice of poetry for wordpress weekly photo challenge – Serene
*shot with fujifilm x100f with fixed 23mm (35mm full frame equivalent) lens at ISO1250, f/4 and 1/60s*
freedom, is
mine
(was the cry)
and then,
that
freedom
(was sold)
and,
the
price
paid,
the value,
of
that,
(precious) life
the
right
to be
independent
(no
more)
– experimental
For WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge – Experimental
And, perhaps, a prelude to the return of a weekly poetry prompt
Writing in today’s Observer newspaper, Laura Cumming’s review followed the headline (at least in the print version) ‘These swings don’t mean a thing’ describing the Superflex installation in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern as ‘by far the worst Turbine Hall commission in the history of the Tate Modern’, and went on to suggest that, if she were Hyundai (who sponsored the commission), she’d ask for her ball back.
I am no art critic, but I wonder if her review missed part of the essential point of the Tate Modern? It is an open expansive space, much of which can be viewed freely. A space where those unfamiliar with art can have their eyes opened, their lives changed. The vast expanse of the Turbine Hall is indeed a challenging space for any artist to fill, no matter how sweeping their ambition or profound their talent.
I gaze across at the trees.
Brittle branches blurred by the breeze, leaves coalescing into a swirling, suppurating soup in front of my aching eyes. You couldn’t make it up. Could you? Or maybe you could. Me, I don’t know. Don’t really know much right now.
I feel pressure in my eyes, darkness enveloping me. That old cliche. Gets them every single time. When I try to describe it to them. The feeling. Hell, I can barely describe it to myself. So how to them?
My fingers feel numb. My ever present and faithful companion (not the bumblebee this time), the pain in my back, ebbs. Hey, that’s good, don’t knock it. There has to be some positive side to all this. No? No, probably not. But I digress. I flow.
andy townend 