16/05/2024 >
Very pleased to be a Supporting and Contributing Photographer at the Centre for British Documentary Photography, my page will be visible soon here>

“and through those eyes
now filled with dust,
the light of nature”

I am dark and smooth, polished by many hands,
but the one hand that I loved has gone,
so let me swing to the rudder’s motion,
moored in the lee, alone.
I knew the change of weather by his grip
and felt his hunter’s passion like a tide,
and the herring scales he rubbed on me
were jewels that I wore with pride.
I pitied him when wind and rain
pressed him, huddling to steer,
up against my nakedness,
the only language we could share.
There’s not a man in all Kintyre
will point me to the open sea;
I’ll bear no other master’s hand,
but burn instead – unship me.

I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be show
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, 1963
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