The night sky dimpled with stars, softens upon the bearded snow’s beauty. Gypsy breezes tempt golden tendrils, tangled at the nape of the neck, to join in the wind’s free spirited circus, galloping ‘round the globe with no tenderness for the hemlines it lifts, the featherlight things it upsets.
If you like eating platefuls of spaghetti in the bathtub, and reading poetry whilst brushing your teeth, and hunting for strange things like antique glass eyeballs, and I like these things, you see, despite that society protests it’s a sin to be strange, the lie they feed the little ones like school lunches, so they’ll grow up full of untruths and stubborn.
Dreamers live like outlaws, the lost and the wild, at the fringes of society slinging their assault rifles of uniformity. Bullies and beasts will preach, “you’ll be unhappy until you’re like us,” but to be wholly yourself is paradise. Photos by Le Cam Romain & Aëla Labbé
The forest is an empress, temptress, russet velvet and svelte as it dresses in the furs of snow and lures the orbs of my eyes to be seduced by its beauty. Wooly fog entombing the land, I emerge from the beige palette of an upholstered vehicle into its purity, with my Turkish rucksack wrestled from the backseat, and my camera, the noose of my neck, reverend and rhythmic. Gingerly, I dig my soft shoes into the polar swell of land, hiking the perilous slope to its crescendo and the plateau. Look.
It’s as if I existed only in a freeze frame of a film, faded to white, and nothingness is everything. Is this what God looks like? The murmurs of nature in wintry extinction, hibernation, there is no evidence of life, omitting the ebb and flow of my blood lungs, and I wonder, I wonder, how many breaths old am I ... Photos by the wonderful Aëla Labbé, sweet, as always, to send me these!
Dreaming in midnight blues, I am constellations drawn in the sand of desolate seas under the swollen bloom of the sun at morning, the microscope of the moon, in the night. I am its specimen, the cranium in exhibit behind the milky skull, a wunderkammer, swallowed melodies, pastel tints of memory ...Photo by Michal Beer.
