I came across some prose poetry in one of my old sketch books and thought I needed a place to keep it ... so here I am! Writing, particularly song writing, was a big part of what I did until photography became my passion. It still is, although I want to make a record of other aspects of my creativity, if that doesn't sound too grand!
This was written in Cornwall in 1987:
and there you are, pulling down the sun with great big hands
spitting out your breath with innocence, curling your frame around eternity
grasping at each soul with hunger, cracking the stones
spinning a web with each wave, uncontrollable desire
cutting through the images, making history, creating interest
sodden downbeat earth, smell of decay and dampness
shaping the spheres, holes to peep through, lighting each movement
infernal collapse and delayed change, metamorphosis; so slowly!
laughing under each well turned stone, characterless and fathomless
only rising in necessity, all at sea
all the little things, all those little things
and then ... driven to a halt.