Between the lines and through the lens…
– Where you there, all the time, I asked myself, for I have not discovered the powers of hindsight, as our words wove like the wind around the whispers the woods were once witness to? – Where you there all the time, I asked myself, in that soft spot of spirit in the fold of […]
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– I held on so long to a comfort stuffed into the curve of my arm, on nights when no one noticed the child behind this mask of man. I held on to a space outdated, to a void I thought I’d vacated, crouching into a cramped corner of considered claustrophobia, convinced I was more […]
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– Winter’s withering winds rustle through berry’s blossom in the gentle dawn, falling on these days of the daffodil. I walk by wild water in a world wild of will. Bloom beneath spring summer; a blanket beautiful, seasons are cycles, sweet that song from seed to stone. All words by Damien B. Donnelly influenced by […]
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– Spring sun sweet on skin that still recalls the rain, (it is not just raindrops that fall) drunk is the forest beneath those blood red moons (blind are we to the fires we started). Will you swim through the shadow to beat away these bitter blues? Beauty is a ship of summer symphony, we […]
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– We drink eternity, soft, slow, salty, like coffee cups of unexplored ocean blues, breathing in dark stars, bleeding in the wake of the wild breeze that has no home in these fatherless trees, eyes moist by this window of time, a prisoner of this smoky glass. We are porcelain colored in concrete, a brilliant […]
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– Control. How to cut deep. Tipping toes in the tepid tides of therapy. We are cunning creatures in unconscious, under cover, cool to discover the character beneath the cadaver. Control. How to discover, how to distance the self from its disguise, from the depths we dive to deceive the day, the way we weave […]
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All photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
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