A Relative Posted A Facebook Album Of Photos From “Maya: The Exhibition” At The Cincinnati Museum

Home from the Holidays, New Jersey Turnpike, December 29, 2017.

Fog, Crest Drive, South Mountain Reservation, Millburn, NJ, Dec. 2, 2012. (c) Sealanehill, 2012 (Originally posted to Facebook, 12/2/2012; thought lost in massive file transfer screwup; but disgorged again by FB; and since I still like this picture, shared with a new audience.)

Yellow rose, Wytheville, VA, 8/19/2017

Many years ago I spent a summer studying Chinese in Taipei, Taiwan. One Sunday we went to the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall, which has a large plaza in front of it. The plaza was crowded, and the sky above was filled with hundreds of kites, all dancing together in the wind. @soulreserve's photo and poem remind me of that afternoon.

My Spirit Soars

“A little thought floats away, unobserved… hidden among the flying kites, and my spirit soars”

Red sky at morning. @mykukula

“frothy skirl of the river”

Luke McCallin, _The Pale House_

Late afternoon light, Cape Jack, Nova Scotia, Jul. 9, 2018.

Welcome to Disneyland!

I don’t know what community the owners of Tumblr think they’re protecting, but mine does not exclude erotica (AKA « adult content »). This change is yet more evidence that the owners of this and other platforms are in fact publishers and should be held to account for their content. (I’m looking at you, Facebook.)

Equation of Time II: Noctilucent Clouds at the Dark of the Moon Handmade collage. Cut Anthropologie lookbook 10/2015, p. 16, Marie-Agnès Gillot, prima ballerina of the Paris Opera Ballet and choreographer; and laser print of online image: "Pamela Anderson Vamps It Up in Saint Tropez" W magazine online, 8/2/2017, photo by Luke Gilford (https://www.wmagazine.com/story/pamela-anderson-activism-feminism-interview/amp). Tissue paper, marker paper, rubber stamp image, color marker, ink pen, and gold paint pen on a white sketchbook page, with artist and studio seals. ~7.5x10 inches (~19x25 cm), 10/8/2017.

Although @soulreserve has given me a bit of credit for this work, I regard myself as nothing more than her first audience. She captures Pilbara in my mind's eye most beautifully.

Songs of the Red Earth Elders

hear the voices rise in unison, even as the parched red earth sings, its dust shimmers on passing travellers;

the sun wildfire-like breaks into dawn, here are trees drawn, crowded along the banks of the sole muddy river, that crawls, cacophonous with the notes these men serenade;

striking wood: the gold of the prospectors ships of intruders visions of the future eroding peace, these frantic beating drums and ancient rhythms, encapsulate meaning into story story into lore lore into pure sensation;

the unbroken blue skies of the Pilbara, an umbrella under which salt is made, sweat is broken and blood is dyed, these textures are found embellished in summer hearts, that hum and console, a promise to the rugged land spread far beyond the eye.

© SoulReserve 2017 & © SeaLaneHill  (9/4/2017)

[Writing this poem was an experience for two reasons: One, that I recently heard the ‘tjaabi’, or song-making and singing of dream visions by the traditional custodians of the Pilbara land. The Aboriginal Elder who narrated the story behind the songs ensured that we were all transported to a time and place, and that we felt the red earth, the sole muddy river, the crowded trees and the blazing sun upon our skins. The exploitation of the aboriginal people, although not a prominent theme, is felt too through the songs and I have tried to incorporate some aspects. Two, I collaborated with @sealanehill who inspired me to delve deeper into the words, strengthen the constructs of this poem and build something that to me is of lasting value. He titled the poem - ‘Soulsongs of the Red Earth Elders’. But, since I believe I overuse the word - soul, I took the liberty to omit it, (sorry Chris!) and keep the title 'Songs of the Red Earth Elders’. I share the credits for this piece with him, of course.]