Something of what we glimpsed lives on - the reddish wall of the Recoleta cemetery, the yellow wall of a jail, a couple of men dancing together at a right-angled street corner, a church courtyard with black and white tiles and a grilled iron fence, a railway gate crossing, my house, a marketplace, the damp unfathomable night - but none of these fleeting things, which may have been others, now matter. What really matters is having felt that our plan, which more than once we made a joke of, really and secretly existed and was the world and ourselves. Down the years, without much hope, I have sought the taste of that night; a few times I thought I had recaptured it in music, in love, in untrustworthy memories, but it has never come back to me except once in a dream. When we swore not to say a word to anyone, it was already Saturday morning.
Jorge Luis Borges
I should mention that I'm not a fan of group invitations with images or (God help me) animations in my comments, and these are likely to be deleted before you know it. Nothing personal, you understand...
- JoinedFebruary 2005
- HometownBath
- Current cityBath
- CountryUK
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There is a spirit of watchfulness and waiting about the evocations within these pages. A sanctuary of mindfulness, of observations in muted tones. Of thoughts unspoken, yet still somehow, they emerge from the warp and weft of prose and self discovery. An ever present sanctuary, as soothing as the sound of the sea as it… Read more
There is a spirit of watchfulness and waiting about the evocations within these pages. A sanctuary of mindfulness, of observations in muted tones. Of thoughts unspoken, yet still somehow, they emerge from the warp and weft of prose and self discovery. An ever present sanctuary, as soothing as the sound of the sea as it draws pebbles 'neath the rising tide. Ebbs & flows. Ebbs & flows... Welcome to the world of incidental music.
Read lessIncidental Music is a storyteller. He writes poems about music notes, smoketree leaves, three-word stories and specks of dust being brushed by the wind. He recalls how quietly and gently they can alter the shape of the world, how they can weave themselves into its fabric, bend its colours and rhythm and create a 24x36 … Read more
Incidental Music is a storyteller. He writes poems about music notes, smoketree leaves, three-word stories and specks of dust being brushed by the wind. He recalls how quietly and gently they can alter the shape of the world, how they can weave themselves into its fabric, bend its colours and rhythm and create a 24x36 tale of absolute grace and unbearable sweetness. And I know reality can't quite fit into such moments, but for as long as I'm looking at his photos I do believe it.
Read lessRob is an explorer who seeks poetry in everyday life. There is no such a thing as insignificant on his stream, everything is beauty. Not only does he have an unmistakable talent to find the loveliness in every little things, his words go right through your heart, his poems add to the magic of an instant. Lose your … Read more
Rob is an explorer who seeks poetry in everyday life. There is no such a thing as insignificant on his stream, everything is beauty. Not only does he have an unmistakable talent to find the loveliness in every little things, his words go right through your heart, his poems add to the magic of an instant. Lose your way through his stream, be prepared to be moved...
Read lessIntelligent, romantic and poetic vision. I think stasis88 could make the viewer believe that anywhere he was is the most beautiful place on earth. He doesn't miss the subtleties that make the ordinary things profound and beautiful. Quiet brilliance-long may he reign.
What she assumed, he assumed: the fire in leaf and grass, the gloomy wood, the rehearsal for death, each day the last day.
Rob...has the soul of a poet trapped in the career of an accountant. Don't let the mild-mannered facade deceive you, though..he's Superman. I can't wait to see what his new lucubrations will bring.