Take on Life

Is it the camera or the eye that takes the photo, is it the scene or the observer that creates the magic?

I think that perhaps each photograph holds a little of the photographer, it captures a moment that only they witnessed, in a way it captures their soul. It certainly captures how they see life, what speaks to them and through their photography, they speak to us.

As we walk through life we come across many scenes, many stories to be told. It is the observer that connects, it is the observer that tells the story in whatever art form, they are the channel.

Does the flower open for the photographer, scene unfold for the painter and move for the writer, poet or dancer. Are we capturing moments or are they simply occurring just for us.

I feel nature talks to us, it gives us messages, it teaches and if we feel we understand those messages, we capture them and pass them on. Photos are like memories, they capture moments in time, they take us back and add beauty to the world on a cloudy day. Photos like any other stories are quite simply our take on life.



I really don’t know much at all about photography, all my shots are taken on my trusty iPhone, I’m just pondering the question that maybe you can answer ūüôā





I see a hand that’s withered, 

frail and getting old.

Clinging onto memories, 

some stories left untold.

The table that you sit on, 

an ancestor for sure.

Down into the forest, 

there’ll be many more.

Once you waved from branches, 

now crumbling away.

A topic of the artists mind, 

in his art you’ll stay.

~ Liza


The Energy of Art

I read my favourite poem aloud,

I read it from the book.

Traced my hand across the words,

I didn’t need to look.

I see my painting on my wall,

she looks back at me.

The woman in the painting,

so real it’s as if she can see.

Then the book beside my bed,

I’ve read so many times.

I wonder why I read it again,

I know the ending lines.

The photos of my family,

smile out from every shelf.

Reminding me I’ll be okay,

never just here by myself.

These items carry energy,

more than just from a tree.

The energies so powerful,

for the joy it brings to me.




I’m giving up my body

and passing you my mind,

I want to be possessed by you

my soul I’m trying to find.

Please use my hand and paint a scene,

by opening up my heart.

Write poetry that lights a fire,

I’m ready now to start.

Or use my voice, speak through me,

the words I do not know.

Blend the colours of my heart

for the creation of my soul.

I’m leaving here, there’s space for you,

my mind is open now.

Exist through me, live through me,

possess and show me how.



Ghost of my Existence 

The ghost of my existence, weighs heavy on my mind.

On what I’ve given to this life, I’m finding hard to find.

I was selfish most the journey, put my own needs first.

If only I had remembered, what I came her for at birth.

Entering my Autumn years, the harvest has show to me.

All the things I should have done and couldn’t really see.

I wish to make amends now, to those whose love endured.

Who loved me despite my selfishness, I need to even score.

I’ll return to you in times of need, I’ll not depart this land.

Until I’ve paid you back in full, I hope you will understand.

Response to daily prompt – Ghost

Graffiti Reading

Graffiti Reading No. 1

I came across this piece of graffiti while walking in Brighton today and was quite taken with what it said to me.  I took a photo of it and thought I would try a sort of psychic reading.

The art was half way up a staircase.  The stairs are a thoroughfare from one road, up a hill to a parallel road above.  You have to be local to know they are there, they are hidden from view.   This suggested to me that the artist, was neither here or there, but on his way up.

I feel this was painted by a young man who is still discovering himself. ¬†The face he shows to the world different to the soul beneath, he wears a mask. ¬†He presents a tough exterior, doesn’t smile an awful lot, if at all to those who don’t know him. ¬†He is still finding himself, he is in the process of carving out his identity. ¬†I believe he is on his way up and getting closer to his destination. ¬†I think this is a self portrait, even if he was unaware of this at the time.

He wants us to think that he meets the world head on, he knows where he is going but I believe he is still tortured by the past.  Torture might not be the right word here, but he shows a sadness, the sadness that comes from past experiences that leave scars on the soul.  I get this from the eye on the left, right in the photo, that appears to be focussed on the past.

That he chose a secluded spot to display his art, made me feel he was waiting to be noticed and at the same time, desperately wants to be worthy of being noticed. ¬†He is not ready to show his true self yet, he doesn’t believe he will be accepted. ¬†But there is hope in the art work and I think hope for the future.

I believe he comes from love, there are people around him that love him although he might not be aware of this at the present time. ¬†I see two circles behind him in blue and green, signifying love and healing. ¬†I’m not sure he consciously painted them but to me they are his people.

I feel this young man is a thinker and communicator, he has the ability to communicate his understanding of the world but at present he is quiet.  He has passion, this will develop as he begins to understand himself and his place in the world.  Above all I see a gentleness that will grow and flourish.

This gives me hope.