BOOKENDS; ALL THE WATER CARRIES OFF WITH IT

  There will always be a part of me standing by the water’s edge, watching how much of us got washed away and wondering how much more sunk so deep below the surface that it is now a captive more to your careful concrete than that ever coldly cutting current.     All words and […]

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BOOKENDS; TIMING IS EVERYTHING

  Coming in is easy. Learning when to leave is an art not easily understood.     All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly This month is about getting ready to leave Paris, for good. Today will also be my last day as pattern maker at the Paris fashion design atelier of & Other […]

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BOOKENDS; A CITE OR A SHADOW

  A city and a shadow, a choice; to stay or leave, to concede and crown myself as conquered and then be crushed or to continue on as committed commuter, to be complacent or constantly curious for more light so as to comprehend the darkness, to break down the barrier between all there is to […]

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BOOKENDS; A SHADE CAUGHT IN THE SHADOW

  I walk in circles now, following paths forward that crossover roads I once considered. Time trips onward but no longer is the line straight, no longer a captive of direct. This light is lit now like a last lap, here, in this place once prized, once positioned next to pride on platforms now too […]

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BOOKENDS; UNDER PARIS

  Caught is the consciousness in this constant climb, in this city of constrictions and its current that constricts and I can’t catch a breath. And the barricades have broken. Baffled by the beat my feet can’t follow and I am swallowed, sinking in this city of stone swamps and its concrete that compresses and […]

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BOOKENDS; THESE ARE NOT MY SHADOWS

  You cannot go back, to return does not mean to rerun, I recognise these streets, I can recall a certain laugh, a twisted lie, an open door, but my footprints have changed. I cannot find the same sunflower I drew when I was younger than this youth I now cling to and so many […]

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BOOKENDS; GOLDEN GREENS IN THE GARDEN OF GREEDY YOUTH

  In days now distant, we were one floor up, apartment dwellers whose viewless windows revealed to us more than the darkness that tried to appeal to us. Tambourine Therese tapped her tunes of truths not yet tasted, tumble leaves freshly fallen from the trees in the apple orchard of golden greens begging to be […]

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