A tree full of bees in Cyprus, next to a sacred spring: much buzzing, and behind it gentle splashing.
Creative Pause
Gentle canal weir
Smooth-running water down a green-and-purple canal weir by the side of a mossy bank. You can hear the soft white noise of the weir and the camera slowly pans to show different parts of it. (Three and half minutes)
Windy beach tributary
Silent video of a pebbly tributary, water running down to the sea and glistening in the sun, as the clumps of grass bow and shake in the wind. (Four minutes)
Rocky Welsh river
Foam-flecked water flows between lichenous rocks, with gentle white noise and the occasional burr of wind
River waterfalls
Two small waterfalls flowing into a river in which leaves drift downstream, with the sound of the water, faint birdsong, and the brief distant roar of a farm vehicle. A few snatches of distant hikers' conversations are just audible.
Slow churning weir
Silent, slow-motion video of a weir churning and the white water pushing into the rest of the river. (Two minutes)
Summery moat
Water flowing into a stone moat in summertime, with the sound of its churning, its light ripples under the bridge, and occasional birdsong.
Churning Weir
A one-minute video of water churning from a weir into the river and spreading out, just before sunset, with sound.
Labels:
Megan Kerr,
nature,
video,
water
Dancing Leaf
A two-minute video of a leaf dancing in the wind, in a hedge, with the faint white noise of the wind and distant traffic.
Labels:
leaf,
Megan Kerr,
video
National Poetry Day: Drowsy Substrata
To celebrate National Poetry Day, here is the first poem I wrote that I still like as an adult.
Drowsy Substrata - Megan Kerr
Once upon a thunderstorm
A lightning flash away
Rain promised at the window pane
To take the heat away.
A candle there you brought me
Though the darkness did not flee
Yet it softened at the corners
And in warmth enfolded me.
In a blanket with a candle
At the centre of my heart
All secrets can be naked
In the privacy of dark.
The feelings that lie wordless
Subterranean in my soul
With a flash are in the open
And can still remain as whole.
Drowsy Substrata - Megan Kerr
Once upon a thunderstorm
A lightning flash away
Rain promised at the window pane
To take the heat away.
A candle there you brought me
Though the darkness did not flee
Yet it softened at the corners
And in warmth enfolded me.
In a blanket with a candle
At the centre of my heart
All secrets can be naked
In the privacy of dark.
The feelings that lie wordless
Subterranean in my soul
With a flash are in the open
And can still remain as whole.
You can here me talking about the poem and reading it aloud here, at 07:07 mins. The picture is an interpretation of the poem in watercolours by Lin Kerr of Limetrees Studio.
Drifting leaves
This is a three-minute video of leaves floating past the side of a punt. Occasionally, you can also see the reflections of the trees and sometimes hear the punt pole scrape the bottom of the river.
Davey Jones's Alphabet
Slow encrustations of moss, crackling of paint, accumulation and depradation of rust: this is a beauty I walked past twice a day for two years before I saw it.
All photographs © Megan Kerr
Tulips, Frost, Steam, Sunshine
Photograph: Nikki Magennis 2013, all rights reserved
Frost this morning; steam from my neighbour's boiler; sunlight catching the edge of the tulips.
Happy - Tessa Case
"Each item tells a story, reminds me of a memory or is a cool colour, and all make me happy"
|
Many thanks to Tessa Case for permission to reproduce her photo montage. You can see the original post here and explore more of Tessa Case's photography, design, and creative living at tessacase.wordpress.com.
Piccadilly People - Dan Zappi
Many thanks to Dan Zappi for permission to share his music. You can visit his website at www.danielzappi.com and follow him on Facebook here.
We Have Known Treasure
We have known treasure fairer than a dream
Upon the hills of youth. And it shall stay
Jewelled in the distance, untarnished and supreme,
For the dark tentacles of life's decay never shall shadow it
Nor over throw its years like hours grown golden in the sun,
Its years lived full in the gathered light,
An amethyst across the sea of night.
For dawn and dusk we knew and caught our breath
With the exquisite maginings of Spring,
Lived deep, talked lightly of this stranger death,
And love grown wistful with remembering
A half familiar tune we used to sing, these were ours,
Love's touch upon our hands, music and flowers
Though in the faithless years they have no part,
These are the endless things, the real of heart.
– Anon
This poem is listed as Anonymous in Seven Ages: Poetry for a Lifetime (1992) edited by David Owen
Upon the hills of youth. And it shall stay
Jewelled in the distance, untarnished and supreme,
For the dark tentacles of life's decay never shall shadow it
Nor over throw its years like hours grown golden in the sun,
Its years lived full in the gathered light,
An amethyst across the sea of night.
For dawn and dusk we knew and caught our breath
With the exquisite maginings of Spring,
Lived deep, talked lightly of this stranger death,
And love grown wistful with remembering
A half familiar tune we used to sing, these were ours,
Love's touch upon our hands, music and flowers
Though in the faithless years they have no part,
These are the endless things, the real of heart.
– Anon
This poem is listed as Anonymous in Seven Ages: Poetry for a Lifetime (1992) edited by David Owen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)