Hey there everyone!
Another change has happened within the last few weeks… I post a positive message (image) to my Instagram account every day! It’s typically a message that I will take with me through my day and I hope that seeing it helps others during their day. Check it out here!
It’s an honor to introduce good friend Gavin Kerslake as Featured Blogger for December 2017. Gavin’s highly successful personal site Noir, http://www.sedge808.com. I have no doubt you will want to follow his work. Gavin also contributes to http://firstname.lastname@example.org, a Survivors community.
Gavin is a Professional Photographer, Music Lover, Street Dancer and Published Author. His first book ‘Noir’ released in September 2017.
What hobbies do you have outside of photography?
Music is my favorite thing in my life. I’m into electronic music, but love all kinds of music. Film (movies, TV Series etc) are a big thing in my life. Love Horror and Science Fiction, but also like Foreign Films very much too. I watch a lot of them.
When did you start dancing? Did you dream of having a Studio?
I started dancing in my late teens, and went to jazz classes every week. In my early 20’s I took up full-time study. In my 30’s I became a dance teacher. Ballroom, jazz, Techno, Latin and Rock and Roll. I never had a desire for a studio.
Tell me about performing with the Australian Ballet Company.
It was a huge honor. They travel around Australia to each city. Myself and another man were chosen to perform with the ballet. A bit like an extra in a movie. It was awesome, a lot of fun. Wore a full Scottish kilt, for each performance and stage make up
Your first photos were in color, why did you switch to Black and White?
Very good question. Color was very much my thing when I started photography in 2009. The Flickr community got me interested because I was seeing a lot of Black and White photography. That’s when I made the change, and joined WordPress. My followers were used to me doing color, when I started B&W, they didn’t like it. I decided to use WordPress for my B&W photos.
Your book Noir looks incredible, the photos flow so well. How did you decide on layout?
Thank you very much. It took a lot of effort, and I got RSI from all the work I put into it. I wanted to have themes that flowed throughout the book. I’m very happy with the result.
How do you feel with a published book?
Proud and happy. There are more books coming in the future, but they will be color.
It’s a pleasure to work with friends, hugs…thank you Gavin. Melinda
Here are additional outlets where you can find Gavin’s work.
things are back on track and I’m back.
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach…and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
Henry David Thoreau
Gone are the broken eyes we saw through in dreams gone.
Both dream and lie
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The photos in this video are dedicated the men and women of the American Civil Rights Movements.
We are all religions, races and nationalities. We are gay, straight and transgender.
We are everywhere and we will never give up.
I chose “We are Family” by Sister Sledge because it makes me smile. 🙂
Hello and Happy Memorial Day. One thing I love aside from taking pictures at the beach, is taking pictures of train tracks. They entrance and mystify me somehow. I wanted to share them with you. Please feel free to use them and kindly link back to this blog so I can see how you incorporated them into your work.
Enjoy and thank you all for your support and readership!
A concrete picnic enclosure on Venice Beach; abandoned except for a weathered old man on a picnic table rolling cigarettes.
A faded tattoo of a sword wrapped in a ribbon on his forearm, the words on the ribbon merge together in blue curlicues, like the blue veins that criss-cross his swollen nose.
He says his name is Eddie.
Eddie has selectively gathered cigarette butts since dawn.
He has searched in and around the enclosure and is now ready to roll a few butts for the day.
Boys on skateboards zip through.
A photographer wanders in and snaps a picture of Eddie as he teases tobacco into a rusty can.
Eddie flicks away the yellow filters.
Pigeons scurry over to peck them.
He rolls two thin cigarettes and lays them out to dry; I offer him one of mine, and he gently declines, “I have enough” he says.
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Sunsets, like childhood, are viewed with wonder not just because they are beautiful but because they are fleeting.” ― Richard Paul Evans, The Gift
Sunsets, like empires and memories of love long ago, fade slow; first brilliant, then warm, and finally passing to silk brocade on black velvet. How much more beautiful they are in memory when the busy moments of planning and passing through life have stilled. Continue reading “Sunsets and Memories”
One’s dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered. ― Michael J. Fox
It’s my pleasure to bring you another poem submitted by Topaz Winters. Her poem takes us inside the maelstrom of a wounded spirit stuck between feeling the reality of unrelenting anguish from abuse, trauma, abandonment, and the dream of love and life as first imagined. The journey to healing is never swift or without setbacks captured in the line, “I sometimes pretend I’m a phoenix.” Topaz’s advocacy for survivors and awareness is greatly appreciated. Topaz offered her poem as a tribute to the readers and authors that know abuse and trauma all too well. Thank you for your continued support, Topaz. And now, dear reader, I submit to you, Sticks and Stones by Topaz Winters. Continue reading “STICKS and STONES by Topaz Winters”
Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused. ― Paulo Coelho
Love is an untamed force. Indeed. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to understand it and in the end realized that the torture of asking why, what if, and if only served to deepen the wounds of memories whose sharp rusted edges tear and bruise one’s heart and spirit each moment they live above the surface of that restive cauldron that never cools. I’ve realized that it’s the mind that eventually falters and in time the pitted patina of our youthful losses fade into a gray-blue surreal scene with black edges and dark contrasts. Peace comes when the mind hears and no longer recognizes the sound of that first anguished cry. Continue reading “LITTLE CREEK”
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. ― Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
In a follow on to my side trip into aging gracefully, I made a few tweaks to this previous post to give a snapshot into the thoughts one has for a loved one as they grow old together and frailty begins to pull one away from the other.
The metaphor of life from a faded rose in my garden struck me one day as I watched it fade, almost over night. Memories of youth and life played like a song in my mind even though the words played hide and seek as I searched my mind to no avail to remember dates, names, and faces of those long gone. How our lives fade came to me all too clear in that moment through the lens when the rose came into focus. Continue reading “A Faded Rose”
“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.”
― Joseph Campbell
Juron felt safe in his castle. He was of noble stock, the ruler of his domain – a population of one soul complete with body. Juron and his two aether-friends lived a carefree life. They roamed about the castle of their own free will. Juron’s imagination and shadow played gleefully but never too far away from him. The freedom to choose where he would go and what room he would visit gave him a sense of the explorer’s wonder. Continue reading “Castle Walls”
“Watch out for each other. Love everyone and forgive everyone, including yourself. Forgive your anger. Forgive your guilt. Your shame. Your sadness. Embrace and open up your love, your joy, your truth, and most especially your heart.” ― Jim Henson
Joy and Shame
The voice of Joy and Shame,
Forever call my name.
I hear their pleading day and night,
Step from the shadows into the light.
Come to me, the voice calls;
One rises, the other falls.
The touch of Joy, a fleeting game,
The rival player, a crying Shame.
I love them both, I cannot choose;
Side-by-side, they play my Muse;
At the end, I turn away,
They’ll be back another day.
Neither hopes to ever win;
But, they know; I’ll play again. Continue reading “Of Joy and Shame”
When I was a child,
There was a mare;
She waited for me each day.
With her, I rode to far off lands,
And dreamed my life away.
As I grew, she stayed in place,
Her eyes straight forward, her mouth agape.
I no longer noticed her wild-eyed stare,
Neglected by my hectic pace.
Then, one day, I returned to her;
Sadness and wrinkles upon my face.
One last time, I hugged her neck,
And together we rode away. Continue reading “The Mare”
I lived for the wind upon my face.
Rain and sun cleansed me;
But, the wind was my fate.
No storm pushed me from its path.
I stood steadfast and strong.
In time, the work I lived to do,
Nourished the soil and did no wrong.
My toil was the measure of my worth,
And all rejoiced in song.
I turned to the wind and gave my life,
My reward a productive earth.
But, then I aged and skipped a beat,
My body bent and worn.
I’ll not die an untimely death,
brought down by grueling pace,
My value from me torn.
I’ll stand erect, locked in my stance,
And weather every storm.
I shall simply live for the wind upon my face.