There is a very small difference
between watching, and
waiting…
Month: January 2016
Melbourne 365: Day 314
So full of possibility…
Melbourne 365: Day 313
This photo has been deleted and restored many times… it’s an accidental shot, as I was removing an ND filter from the front of my lens. I dismissed it quickly, but there’s something about it that keeps drawing me back – such a small slice of Melbourne, and so easily identifiable. In the end, I have concluded that maybe my camera knows more than I do about what’s worth sharing, so I have honoured its decision…
Melbourne 365: Day 312
The glass is marked, inside and out, fogging and obscuring. It isn’t clear, and nor is our destination…
Melbourne 365: Day 311
The door seemed out of place, an unexpectedly weathered disruption in the regularity of the fence. Like some kind of portal, transporting the traveller to other places, other times…
Melbourne 365: Day 310
Sun. Sand. Sea. Shadows.
(This is my Australia…)
Melbourne 365: Day 309
Time moves differently by the sea… minutes give way to the breath of the tide, hours to the changing sky, from blue time to amber and gold, and then back to blue again…
Melbourne 365: Day 308
The cool, clear water reveals an old story underneath: the waves roll in, smash themselves to pieces and disappear, while underneath, the sand remains calm as always, moving so slowly as to appear still. Some of our storylines are small, fast, forgotten, while the deeper parts take longer to tell, but say something more about our character, about where we’ve been, and where we might be going.
Melbourne 365: Day 307
Today is for rounded curves, gentle sweeps of a paintbrush making a soft shore, streams, sun, and peace.
Melbourne 365: Day 306
A life is a thing of many splinters
shards
fragments –
sometimes they fit together and we see a bigger picture, jagged lines and chaotic textures aligning to create a whole.
Other times the pieces won’t fit, and all we see are the spaces between the parts that we hold.
Always though, no matter how complete the picture,
we live it together –
with people we love, people we meet, people we brush past in the street or glimpse as we ride into the belly of the city.
We are all part of the jagged, clumsy, patched-up thing, finding and losing pieces of ourselves and then finding them all over again.
Timothy Moss 