peek at you

Like limbs conduct an orchestra of colour.


Colour thick with desire to taste like a large tongue can almost speak.


Studied like lines lead the mind to try to find cohesion for the concept of reason to assimilate.


Has anyone seen this cat with a Pikachu growing from it's head? He's not lost, he's been kidnapped!.


Aha he says with a scare, Halloween is almost here. This gizmo deflates then suddenly fills with air, popping Dracula up quickly, ewww, scary, it reminds me of Count Floyd from Second City.


Graffiti yin/yang finds the bummer beside the high.


She is too savvy now to let me capture an unposed photo. I realized I hadn't taken a good photo of her for awhile now. The first few were the typical posed ones that annoy me so much. On instinct I pressed the camera close to her face when she was turned the other way and got her on the way back. It's not great but it'll do until next time.

a bug will come

Appearing as the solitary representation on this day of the brilliance of sunlight, whether it shines or not.


Like a hitchhiker hanging on by, not hope, absolute conviction, that eventually a bug will come.


Returning to the scene of the sublime, it was impossible to decipher what the code was, which if anyone cared to observe, had already been pointed out.


Without visual confirmation the alignment of the frame based on practice and the release of the shutter blessed by luck grabbed two heads when put together can get pretty scary!


There is a point in time where new meets old and one has to give way to the other.

what an ant sees

As if in grasping there were some way to reverse the effects of time separating from source further each time now becomes then.


Everyday is someone's birthday and every flower has something to say in celebration.


Like some flowers insist on being together clamoring for the attention of the sun.


Sugar coating glisten in sunlight as if to say sample my wares in the light of a new way to stay right here now.


Mushroom mandala repeats itself in colours of the earth.


Something like 'what an ant sees' looking up a stem that appears as a one-eyed wry-mouthed hippy guy with a wild afro hair style.


Don't let the red eyes fool you, there's a real monster there somewhere. Get ready! BOO!

flesh in disguise

There's a well, inside, where thought goes to fuel the fire of inspiration, burning of its own accord.

Clematis, not clamadis, I got quite a few hits from searches on the word 'clamadis'. A common misspelling no doubt.


Another nucleus beckons with extended fingers to draw the eye inside where the detail takes place.


Abstract anomaly appears on the side where the wrinkles decided they didn't want to go.


Designed for flight and aligned just right to sharpen the points before green.

With one finger on the pulse of the moment the situation tried to find meaning and purpose behind the direction of the lines.


Minds captured by thoughts displayed as reflections only available from the shadow of the tree


Temperatures rise as the flesh in disguise makes an impression on the section of mind concerned with reproducing some kind of physical connection.


The empty store before the fear takes hold and transforms the space to a place to tread lightly.


Those who will be the undead.

Must Not Be Touched

Sometimes it's the background colours that make those other ones stand out like child eyes wide with the new discovery of life. I love the blue/green thing going on.


Is that a green eyed monster that waits at the end of the path chosen and though all stones look the same their layout can spell disaster when ego is left to be the master of direction.


Clearly defined by the line that drew itself through the field of perception with one leg dragging the stains that remain show no indication of being other than rusty reminders of the effects of time.


Verification of an obscure concept is as plain as the eyes that can see the shadow but never the source.


In a landscape peopled with stick figures only the perfection of the circular drain indicates this as pool bottom and not a frigid scene.


To clarify "FLOWERS Must Not Be Touched - by order City of Nelson". Looks to be a very old sign.

alien landscapes

Diverse even within the same line of branch spawning flower children the nucleus unique remains the center of focus.


Ever in motion water like air adapts to the place of least resistance, yet slowed to almost still, then creates a most alien of landscapes.


The distance just right, the way imagination plays with light, the entity of thought will manifest, given enough time.


Alive in a shoreline rock, an eye winks as I pass by. And blinks again when I remain in place like the heartbeat of the flow of the water as it goes in and out and verifies grace with a flash in the place where the elements align to communicate to mind going by too fast, the beauty is in the essence.

enter the now

I see a flower, I see a bee see a flower, I see a flower and a bee connect where my eyes were before camera lens paused in motion a moment.


Backwards like the way to find another line to look at things from.


Alive the way the center of a flower seems to thrive with an ability to entice, quietly, with grace, like flight.


Like a kindergarten sun still has beauty in its simplicity.


To understand black we need to know white so to find an imbalance we must have an idea in mind somewhere about what tension does to two objects in a linear plane and how the introduction of the third is always the offsetting word that gives subject and action a brain.


Always on top of each breath the air in and out maintained and ignored like a pattern in a dish isn't any kind of story in spite of the symbolism inherent in the weave only accessible when the mind leaves the present to enter the now even as the remnants of the experience linger on.

removed like rain

Like wires gathering point-of-focus attention, to envelope with colour all intention of thought, to find a place to land.


I'm really partial to blue flowers, abundant and repetitive or not, I love the birthday candles inside.


Re a comment James made the other day, I tried to find a way to take a photo of a flower with sky behind. I tried to think outside the box, so I picked the flower and threw it in a puddle reflecting the sky. It didn't turn out like I envisioned but still became something a little different.


Same flower, same puddle, inspired by a mind seeking to find a way to see inside the flower mind and feel the sky behind.


Which of course led to this, another flower plucked and immersed in a tiny pool of water with the brown stones behind. Thanks James, that's three for you this day!


Removed, like rain in its fall to the ground is suspended in motion, the point of focus then relies on the balance of the background shapes to lead the eye to the place where comprehension is made.


Funny how it seems to me there is a personality to the face found along the way and it keeps reappearing to say hi.


The simplest of pleasures composed within the simplest of lines available defines the very moment when the rain fell on a brain and we all felt it.