Poem: Even a Small Fire Can, Nov. 4, 2019

Even a Small Fire Can, Nov. 4, 2019

Even a small fire can
from pine needles dried
cast away from their branches,
half-burned wood
cracked black and hollow
overpower the sun
as it fades beneath the horizon

casting light and
bathing in warmth
so too can love be
rekindled from
bits and pieces,
half-burned memories
blurred by time and distance
until once again
it is blinding
it’s warmth untouchable
it’s shape unknowable

How wonderful it would be
to bathe in this fire
with you until
our embers ceased to glow and
cracked black and hollow
even a gentle breeze carries us and
in bits and pieces
spreads us far out across and
back into everything
where we can
begin again

Cranberry Bog, Brendan T. Byrne State Forest, NJ – 2019
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In the Mountains, After it Rains

“In The Mountains, After it Rains” – Balsam Mountain, Catskills, NY – 2018

In the Mountains, After it Rains – Oct. 19, 2019

If you are in the mountains
if the rain has stopped
if the weather is just right
the ground warmed by the sun
the air cool as it surrounds you
you can witness
what must be angels being born
slumberous-they rise
from the earth
unable to hold on
their haziness
their foggy awakening
is all that surrounds you
as the earth exhales
and everything returns

Note: I made this image in the Catskill Mountains, one of my favorite places to hike. I was hiking with my friend and fellow photographer Dave. We had been making our way through the haze, which had seemed to transform the environment into some strange, fantasy world you normally only see in films. The lack of contrast, the subdued colors, everything glistening with a coat of moisture. It was all very surreal, but beautifully so. When we reached the top of Balsam Mountain, we looked out onto a vast landscape of nothing. Nothingness was all that we could see. Everything was just this thick cloudiness. We waited there for a while- probably about an hour or so in total, before finally the thickness began to break. We could look down upon the layers of hillsides, a myriad of trees began to provide a bit of texture. Then we could see the thick evaporation beginning to occur as the water, being warmed by the sun, began to evaporate and rise into the sky.

Leaves on a Trellis, 2015

Leaves on a Trellis, 2015 – Welwyn Nature Preserve, Glen Cove, Nassau County, NY
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For a long time now I have found myself looking up at the light beyond the leaves of trees. It probably goes back to my childhood where I spent a good amount of time in the forest constructing lean-to shelters, tipis and longhouses, as well as pushing down trees that had died.

I made this image while exploring the woods of the Welwyn Estate in Nassau County, Long Island. I had left my apartment near Trenton, New Jersey very early that morning. This meant I was able to avoid any traffic on the Turnpike and made excellent time on the Cross Bronx Expressway. I arrived at the estate as the sun was rising.

My intention that morning had been to walk down to a beach that a friend of mine had introduced me to. The beach rests on the banks of the Long Island Sound with Connecticut visible on the horizon. It’s a small beach, almost as if it was an accidental afterthought, and because of this there are rarely other people there.

That morning had a suspended, soft feeling about it. There were two fisherman out on the water and the loudest sound to be heard was the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the sand and the stones of the jetty. Every color visible was a delicate pastel tint and nothing seemed real. I made a short film about what my time there that morning felt like.

Afterwards, it seemed as though my senses had been heightened a bit. It was a very calming experience, yet it had the effect of making my eyes more keen to my surroundings. As I explored an area of the woods I knew to contain the ruins of a greenhouse, and at least one other large structure, I came across this trellis blanketed by leaves. By now the sun had risen high enough in the sky for the light to pass through the canopy of leaves above.

I came across this image while browsing my archives and really fell in love with it. There’s a lot going on in such a seemingly simple image. Everything is still, but your eye has plenty to seek out in the image as it jumps between clusters of leaves or traces the twisting paths of vines.

It makes me think about how life goes on outside the seemingly homo-sapien centric existence we all play out. Yet it also brings to mind Frances Hodgson Burnett’s children’s novel The Secret Garden and an intimate moment between to young lovers being interrupted when one, overcome with emotion, gazes up in search of relief and sees this intricate composition of leaves resting above them.

If you find this image as enchanting as I do, please consider purchasing a print from me. It would be my pleasure to make one for you.