Summers Sun soaks into my soul, like the sand beneath well travelled feet. August has never passed so quickly, yet it leaves behind a warmth in every memory touched. Day dreams laced with sincerity and colours so sublime, fragments of everything that has ever been and past. I see blue and gold, shapes that transform [...]]]> Summers Sun soaks into my soul, like the sand beneath well travelled feet. August has never passed so quickly, yet it leaves behind a warmth in every memory touched. Day dreams laced with sincerity and colours so sublime, fragments of everything that has ever been and past. I see blue and gold, shapes that transform the moment consciousness reaches them. A certain feeling of connectedness with spirit, with hope.

Moments fade to be replaced by forms dancing freely around this surrealist place. I wonder what will become of such things as day passes graciously into night. But those concepts of time soon slide away, merging and becoming the rhythmic sound of the shore. Somewhere between the ebbing and flowing of the sea, a secret exists. A secret revealed in the wind, the rain and every ray of sun. They say that understanding can be found in even the smallest grain of sand, the universe manifest as pure potentiality. Blues turn to white, and I realise I’m neither asleep nor awake, instead I drift beyond conscious thought and live amongst dreams.

(29th August 2009)

Note: Living Amongst Dreams is a textual preview of my forthcoming visual art series ‘The Colours of Summer’ (working title), due to be exhibited in October 2009.

Stalkers 2003, 21″ x 34″ acrylic on board

Hello, hello, hello-

Fifteen feet, is all it takes, For my heart to miss a beat-

Everyday, you look my way, A secret, that we must keep-

It’s cold inside, this absent block, A key that fits your perfect lock.

And I wonder if our dreams collide- If we live, a life trapped, inside- This heart-shaped box, you made for me- Out of [...]]]> Hello, hello, hello-

Fifteen feet, is all it takes,
For my heart to miss a beat-

Everyday, you look my way,
A secret, that we must keep-

It’s cold inside, this absent block,
A key that fits your perfect lock.

And I wonder if our dreams collide-
If we live, a life trapped, inside-
This heart-shaped box, you made for me-
Out of hello, goodbye and nice to see-

You will, be mine, in time-
You will, be mine, in time-
In time… In time… In time-

And when, our clocks, will stop-
We’ll be, forever, locked-
We’ll be, forever, locked-

But for now, I’ll just say goodbye-
And you’ll smile, the sweetest smile..

Goodbye

(August 2008)

Washed away eyes, and vacant minds pace a distant shore, waiting for fortunes to change. Time seems to have a way of taking our lives away from us, before we’ve had chance to live. But not today. Although my clock reads 15:18, I know that I’m already late. Countless opportunities have been and gone, far [...]]]> Washed away eyes, and vacant minds pace a distant shore, waiting for fortunes to change. Time seems to have a way of taking our lives away from us, before we’ve had chance to live. But not today. Although my clock reads 15:18, I know that I’m already late. Countless opportunities have been and gone, far more than I care to remember or recount. They say that a brush with death heightens the senses; maybe I should take more risks, live a little while I still can.

It’s in my dreams that I come face to face with the coldness and finality of death, like a room long forgotten, silence and time roam free. I don’t have all the answers, and just like everyone else I’m struggling to keep afloat and make some sense of this incomprehensible world. I do know that your unquestioning eyes and sincere smile make everything ok in that moment, like medicine for the soul.

Did I ever tell you that I’m in love with you? I wish I could, and we could run away far and free, to somewhere we played when we were young. Words serve no purpose, as swings motion back and forth fleetingly. Speaking seems so unnecessary, so we just sit and live for the moment, reading each others eyes like Shakespeare’s sonnets. Why can life not be like this forever-more? To live in the gap where time and place collide. I guess I just need to share the feeling of empathy. To let go to such a point where we cease to exist as individuals and become just pure experience. Did I tell you I love you?

(April 2008)

Waited hours slipped by without trace, no remembrance, only a stillness in time. Agreements, sealed with love, doors, static and unknowing.

I’d never experienced solitude like I did that day, like a flower separated from its stem, I lay dying. A death to amuse strangers, and occupy spaces. They say, When things slow to a point, the world itself stops spinning.

Oh what [...]]]> Waited hours slipped by without trace,
no remembrance, only a stillness in time.
Agreements, sealed with love,
doors, static and unknowing.

I’d never experienced solitude like I did that day,
like a flower separated from its stem, I lay dying.
A death to amuse strangers, and occupy spaces.
They say, When things slow to a point, the world itself stops spinning.

Oh what I’d have given, to know,
to comprehend, to erase that feeling of dread.
Moments merged with lifetimes, past, present and future,
looped together, raw and dragged through the pit of emotion.

To say that breath is automatic, is a simplification,
it became all consuming, the frenetic beating overpowering.
This would be an end to all we had dreamed,
an end that leads back to where we once began.
Our love forever forged, on the day we missed the train.

(April 2008)

They’d call it suicide, but I’d re-inacted my death over and over again in my dreams. Grainy images of places to dark to describe, faces of people I’ve never met using names of the people I know only to well. this is not a rehearsal. This is not the time to stop. The dream continues [...]]]> They’d call it suicide, but I’d re-inacted my death over and over again in my dreams. Grainy images of places to dark to describe, faces of people I’ve never met using names of the people I know only to well. this is not a rehearsal. This is not the time to stop. The dream continues on, and I find myself falling through a blackened sky, clouds made of oil covering a sun long burnt out. Looking down, the landscape draws further away, a shifting perspective that seems so comprehensible, despite it’s absurdity. I’m neither falling or rising, stranded somewhere, sometime for some reason, as I glance towards an antique watch. My heart pauses, seemingly along with the passage of time that stopped dead the moment I attempted to check it. Click. Click. The hands began moving again, but rather than advancing they move counter-clockwise, distorting the surroundings along with my thoughts. Could this be the edge of time? Perhaps I’ll never know, as the inertia of gravity takes hold and calls me home again.

(July 2004)

Dedicated memories shelved in innocent eyes, I look to the sky for forgiveness once again. This night, this life, I take my chances in the sky. Resolute angst paved in sunflower smiles, your hypnotic words pierce superficial skin and negotiate a truce with my broken heart. Your delicate footsteps leave no trace, but I follow [...]]]> Dedicated memories shelved in innocent eyes, I look to the sky for forgiveness once again. This night, this life, I take my chances in the sky. Resolute angst paved in sunflower smiles, your hypnotic words pierce superficial skin and negotiate a truce with my broken heart. Your delicate footsteps leave no trace, but I follow transfixed under your perfect spell. Stumbling sentences, tripping over misplaced words, you take me walking to where you played when you were young, to a place where we can dream… Never stop dreaming of tomorrow, never disbelieve. the doorway had never felt so lonely as I watched you walk away.

(July 2004)

We held hands and wished away the days, whilst the walking dead ran repeatability into harms way. The seering sun baked plains seem so deserted that day, an unmistakable exodus as you walked your miracle mile with a blank expression and vacant smile. We saw the entertainment-news, heard the surround-sound gunshots and felt the indescribable [...]]]> We held hands and wished away the days, whilst the walking dead ran repeatability into harms way. The seering sun baked plains seem so deserted that day, an unmistakable exodus as you walked your miracle mile with a blank expression and vacant smile. We saw the entertainment-news, heard the surround-sound gunshots and felt the indescribable human pain, as you stumbled into temporarily white-washed walls, synergistically pathetic, obliviously incompetent. This is where the story ends. I dreamt last night of a world where people cared, a world where this sentence is more than text on your computer screen, a world where dreams came true. I hope I never wake up again.

(August 2004)

Translucent red skies and heart shaped clouds, silently watch as you walk hand in hand, along another perfect shore. Cupids arrow binds you together, gracefully in love, forever believing in the dreams that you share. Songbirds sing exquisite songs, the sweetest lullaby dances, with music from the day you first met. Eternity waits for the [...]]]> Translucent red skies and heart shaped clouds, silently watch as you walk hand in hand, along another perfect shore. Cupids arrow binds you together, gracefully in love, forever believing in the dreams that you share. Songbirds sing exquisite songs, the sweetest lullaby dances, with music from the day you first met. Eternity waits for the truest of love, as you watch stars that fall silently, sparkling with hope. Sitting together, like sculpture sublime, a picture so perfect, a day so fine.

(October 2004)

Another road, another broken dream shattered to dust, slipping through hollow fingers, falling randomly to the floor. A glance skywards captures the waning moon, perfectly painted in hues unimaginably sublime. It had never felt so cold as it did that winters night, tear-drops frozen, an emotion suspended in eternity like an old photograph, hopelessly caught [...]]]> Another road, another broken dream shattered to dust, slipping through hollow fingers, falling randomly to the floor. A glance skywards captures the waning moon, perfectly painted in hues unimaginably sublime. It had never felt so cold as it did that winters night, tear-drops frozen, an emotion suspended in eternity like an old photograph, hopelessly caught in time. Fragments of fractured memories drift into a pre-occupied mind, seemingly unrelated, imaginatively correlated, this time I’m not coming down. I had dreamt a thousand dreams, yet stars still spelt out puzzles like abandoned lighthouses on an endless shore. Perhaps I should never have let your hand go, but I knew you’d be back one perfect day. Perhaps we look upon the same star tonight, a undeniable vision that illuminates hopeful eyes so bright.

(December 2004)