037. Circles

Inspired by Amrita Mishra's wonderful poem "sundays" and following my nose on the whole circle-pictures thing which seem to be cropping up in my mind recently. It was a circles thing that inspired the picture for "Peeling" - not to remove the mystery but I was taking pictures of circular things in my flat - bowls of chocolates, wide tinned candles, dirty saucepans, yoghurt pot lids...

I wasted my time                                                                                 

sitting on the beach                                                                                 

against the warm wood                                                                                 

waiting for the sun to                                                                                 

come out again, press its                                                                                 

warmth into me, and                                                                                 

round we go in                                                                                 

circles again                                                                                 

014. Pooled light

Mindy Bray inspired today's piece with her picture erasure (for kate) below left. The lamp posts in Venice always had an otherwordly quality about them, pink, no, rose coloured glass, as if the surroundings needed to be further prettified. Also, Amrita Mishra's day 10 piece inspired me to comment about men who visit... and that got developed further into the poem below

                                                You walked with me to my door,
                                                     afterwards. I glowed with pink prosecco,
                                                    feeling mysterious in the fog, and daring too.
                                                  Thrilled to have seized the day, to have lived
                                                    in those moments with you.
                                                   Your breath tickled against my ear, kissing
                                                      my cheek goodnight. I did not understand,
                                                       not then, that you were one of those men
                                                      who came only to visit, never to stay.