Tell Your Story Walking

Exquisitely Human

A day of walking, shared stories, confessions of humanity – love, loss, and nonlinear time. On the way home, I whisper to a telephone pole, “Remember the earth and sky and how you once swayed in the breeze.” When we tell our truths, the world spins more easily on its axis.

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Creative Sunlight

Terry Long imagery

Spiro-Spectro.e
Spectro – Spiro / Medium – Prismography / 2014 / Terry Long

I used a combination of two crystal prisms, sunlight, and my Nikon D700 DSLR camera to create Spectro-Spiro, plus some photoshop. A total of 20 digital layers were also used for the finished piece.

Spiro-Spectro copy.e

Close up section of Spectro-Spiro

Using pure sunlight to create art feels and appears to be very magical, a kind of alchemical process, but without the wizards hat and cape! Living in sunny Southern California helps a great deal, and allows me a lot more opportunity to experiment with this exciting medium and process. The prisms act like paint brushes, and can be combined in different configurations to achieve different effects, plus combined with the many digital effects of photoshop, there are endless possibilities.

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Intro 1: Time Over Time

David Emeron: Sonnets

Wrote, of that I wrote
Within a thought once within,
Without is without.

Always it began,
As reliable as though
It ran like clockwork,

My love, did I sit,
Outside, under an awning,
Watched and listened as it rained.

And sometimes, I cried;
All my tears, all my ink, mixed;
And wrote I such things:

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Conservation of Love

Sherrie Theriault's Blog

April 8

CONSERVATION OF LOVE

Love does not diminish.  It recycles like the rain, ever in transition and transmission.  Love is not salvationary or redemptive.  Nor do I believe it to be the currency of Godliness.  Love is an element like cobalt or gold, it has weight and substance.  Love is the coinage of responsibility not a door out of consequences.  Love, true love, inspires right action, never cowardice or disrespect.  In this strange amelioration, standing in the wings of realism, love is love no longer.  Love is the standard I have to bear, not the canopy I stand beneath.  In the frozen center, love cannot endure the pressure of misinformation, and melts with friction, floods with irresponsibility.  Love, like money, admiration and sex, has its place and must not have expectation of being more than it is.  With that said, Love is peerless, to be treasured, protected and shared.

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