this is a family portrait we are treading that path altogether. Somehow the wind thought we ought to be there at this very time, here, altogether: five of us, specks of dust on a silver screen. Beings pushed around, running left to right through the platform of this old game called life. xxx, Noémie.
as the sun disappeared behind the horizon the clouds make way, scattered set the sky ablaze, sun.
This is...a flashback,slice of a previous life.from a time way backwhen I was around 10sharing apricotswith dear lama Purtse. ‘lama apricots’that’s how we called him.he practiced his whole lifewith the same certaintyalone or with plenty,he was always there,diligentlydedicating his lifeto the three sacred jewels:the Buddha, Dharma, Sangha.I remember him fondly:apricots, dharma and consistency. Lama Purdse … Continue reading Lama apricots
give up your idols they're no longer needed but carve your own path out of the driftwood given to you, freely. that's all there is to it. that's all there is to it. ~~~ An owl appearing out of a piece of driftwood I was carving... xxx, Noémie.
Fairy tales are all man made. Women wouldn't write stories portraying themselves as such shallow, vain, fragile roses. If a woman was to write such tale about her rescue, she would have her own weapons. No swords, spears or javelins, but she would use her own brains instead of phallic objects. She would talk the … Continue reading The Handmade Tale
Happy May Day / Beltane everyone. I hope that the light that spring brings will warm your hearts and bones. XXX Noémie.
Cows know their way home. They know when to venture out When the grass is sweet then they know when to head back, up the beaten track. They go back where their heart is, No regrets or fear Pass the fields, pass the shipwrecks Farm machinery, Wanderers, witch and wizards. They walk back and forth, … Continue reading Cows know the way
Here is a series of pictures I recently took from the water's edge in Weirwood Reservoir, which is one of my favourite places around here. It is a big body of water made of the Medway River - even though it is only a stream at that point (the Medway starts around here), there is a … Continue reading From the water’s edge
Sunday afternoon. A walk around the 'running around fields'. Some time. Some family time. Walking, quietly. 'The colours blend and roll as one' ~ with some dramatic changes of light. 'The oak and weed together rise, Along the common ground.' ~"As gentle tides go rolling by, Along the salt sea strand The colours blend and roll as … Continue reading The colours blend, and roll as one…
January, February... Sleep. In all its glory.
