HOMAGE TO THE SPIRITS
HOMAGE to the Spirits which still inhabit the thoughts we imagine : past OR present. 
THE WORLD IS GONE AWAY FROM US
'I can enchant the wiry shrubbery into speaking of its past - the days now gone, the uses we once had for things - now forgotten and finished, but leftover in a world we no longer recognize.' 
Left just as it was when abandoned, the old workbench seems ready for use. The long afternoon light of a winter's day shades and colors the leftover world - now a place of idle uselessness. 
Missle silos? No, just silos. 
The old shed's come a'cropper. 
Abandoned silos from a world now gone. We leave nothing but ruins in its wake...and then we forget about them. 
The Power of indelicate blue sky. 
In my mind's eye, I thought I had seen something moving. 
Oh place on Earth : We salute you. Amidst everything else, your lines, your angles, your movement and color, like some milky fluid running through space. 
We have to show - WHAT have we to show? The place of mind-numbing banter, the constant uses of the businessman's sleight-of-hand. 
Along each street, the whitish fog - an element of the light - present just as a person is present; making us somehow an inventory of the matter we walk through while our minds are transfixed on something else. 
THE MAGIC MOMENT RUNS BY US ALL...'In some way concurrent with the overlaps of ALL times together, I realized in an instant the eternal nature of the scene before me - how time itself, as silent as its passage and movement - really amounts to nothing more than an awareness of things which pass.' 
'The mystery ratings of a day when sunlight causes a strangely evocative mist to coat every scene' 
'In a window display, I saw a picture of two young girls - weirdly distant, yet familiar too. I wondered about the connections of everything to everything else - how often we pass, unknowingly, what we already know - or have known.' 