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; BETWEEN THE LIGHT AND THE LEGACY

  Paris, in between the light and the legacy, there is a silence waiting to be heard.     All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly This month is about looking at the shadow and light of Paris and the part I played in it, or the parts she played within me.

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BOOKENDS; EVOLUTION 12, SOME PEOPLE THAT WE USED TO BE

  We sit now and sip cocktails, the waiter pulls out your chair and hands me the menu after calling you madame. I strain now to hear your voice; softer, gentler, feminine finding freedom. I catch you checking your lipstick in the mirror, pulling a curl back into place above those blushed cheekbones still a […]

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BOOKENDS; WHEN THE BREATH COMES AFTER THE BREAK

    The lilt of the lavender that lingered for days, long after, by the leaning, before the louvre, the sweet consolation of candy floss cologne that stayed on the pillow, after you had parted. It is sometimes that simple; a scent to sail you back to me as if I never left the garden, […]

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BOOKENDS; STILL ME ON THE METRO

  It was this morning and yesterday, all at once, a smell, a scent on the metro, in my nostrils, a decent into memory, a reverie playing, replaying while the Counting Crows played Round Here. We sang our own song, once, but time, like the metro, took us into different directions, with obligations steered to […]

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BOOKENDS; A STILL LIFE OF SENTIMENTAL ON A WALL

  Memory is a shot of stillness sealed behind a lens that looks for what cannot be seen until it’s been frozen by the frame. Some see this as a season of rust and ruin and running while I see a freedom in this fall and in every breeze another breath to breathe brave into […]

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