Creative Pause: Megan Kerr

Showing posts with label Megan Kerr. Show all posts

Canal leaves

Two silent videos of autumn leaves floating in the canal, drifting slowly

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)

Silent river ripples

Silent slow-motion video of the ripples on a river (one and a half 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.

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.

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.

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.