I had a whole number of genius, deep and thoughtful posts that have sat in drafts or in my head since my last entry but none of them felt like they were meant to be shared. Yet.
This may or may not bee seen as having been due to a certain idle procuration of a couple Digital Photography magazines at the library a week back while I was mournfully staring at the only avaliable Writers Digest, of which I all read (and some multiple times). It was also in part due to this blog encouraging me to look back through my reams of photos in order to find decent illustrations since I cannot abide blogs that have too much dialogue and too little imagery. Apologies if that seems a bit hypocritical (I recognize I write a lot, and often in a scatterbrained fashion that ends up being circular).
Whatever end you want to stick with, the pointy bit is stuck on the fact I have gotten back into photography, and by relation, Photoshop. It's rather nice telling stories with just images and actually being able to listen to podcasts an music with lyrics for once.
Today the story I am going to tell you is (in technicaly terms) called
Photovoice, except I am using it here for any social activist movement or community, other than that of my own Imaginist Mind.
A Traveller's Guide
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| Colour seeps from land long forgotten. |
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| Pinches the heart of the soldier who never stops. |
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| Until. See it reach peak rush hour. Today's hamster habitation. |
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| In these colours. We swim. We stand. |
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| Desperate for the shades of fruit bowls. |
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| Our wildness contained within. Call out... |
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| Hark now. Heraldry waves. |
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| Watch as the colour cast of two. Equals back to one. |
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| Let fast lanes fade. Colours drain off. Back home. |
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| Return to those distant shades of shores. |
An Imaginist always.
Moony.
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