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    zephyr / a field in hertfordshire


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    Photographic composites of ephemeral works

    Iron Filler / Graphite / Fabriano 4 Cartridge Paper / Wind (wsw)

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    black clough / four days in the dark peak



    ...Grinding the skin off earth
    Earth bleeds her raw true darkness

    A land naked now as a wound
    That sun swabs and dabs...

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    ​Ted Hughes, Remains of Elmet, 1979
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    a history of sunlight / dusk - dawn / hertfordshire

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    How far that little candle throws his beams! 



    William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, 1596

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    meander / cymru / 2017-2023




    mutation of weathers and seasons,

    a windfall composing the floor it rots into.



    Seamus Heaney, North, 1975

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    passage / redivivus



    my silence 
    is like glass blown by an apprentice
    flawed and cracked

    but now I have learned to form silence
    and next time I will do it right
    perfectly


    Webb Chiles, Artist of words and wind, 1975


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    a history of sunlight / dusk - dawn / hertfordshire

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    The quality it had now, in fresh untempered sunlight, was neither faerie nor austere; the changing shadows of dusk and midnight had vanished with the darkness and the rain, and walls and roof and towers were bathed in the radiance that comes only in the first hours of the day, soft, new-washed, the delicate aftermath of dawn. The people who slept within must surely bear some imprint of this radiance in themselves, must turn instinctively to the light seeping through the shutters, while the ghostly dreams and sorrows of the night slipped away, finding sanctuary in the unwakened forest trees the sun had not yet touched. 


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    Daphne du Maurier, The Scapegoat, 1957