sky030317they had merged into a parallel universe which was identical in every way to the old one where Earth was – except for one thing,

she wasn’t in it.



words light and magic


Jack & The Woods



There is true art involved in creating beautiful subtle images as visual poems. Moving evocative images may linger in our memory for years like a flickering memory or fragment of a dream.

Good writing and good image making require the same keen skills of observation, the same sense of the moment, the same ability to distil the essence of moments and life.

Both done well hold the essence of being human. One with words creates it’s images in our imaginations, the other with light and magic.

In your pain we stand beside you Brother

(written for a broken guy from a guy who has been broken)

We your brothers understand. Many of us have been where you stand now, some still are. At times We all fear being alone. We seek to be loved. We grieve not just death. Your grief now is real and the depth of your despair is understood. We bend until we break. Be gentle on your heart and comfort your soul.

Some have weathered these storms of pain and loss. They saw that as days and moons passed this pain and loss was part of a larger more important journey. They came to know in their hearts that they have a greater purpose to seek and fulfil. They have seen that hard times are a preparation.

Through the trials of this life We come to appreciate and know what being human truly is. In the days ahead and as you now reflect and watch the Stars and feel the warm Sunlight and the breeze on your face, know that you are gaining insight and wisdom.

Take breath. Now. Again. Your thoughts gain strength now and in time your energy will rise.

Your life is a wondrous miracle.

Breathe deeply. Rest.


We each exist in a bubble of deluded belief of what we think the ‘external’ world actually is.
We wake after dreaming and have no understanding of what a dream is.
So in this world then we ‘see’ it, we ‘hear’ it, we ‘taste’ it, we ‘breathe’ it.
It appears contiguous and material. It seems “real’.
What is tangibility?
We busy ourselves with the games before us and pretend we are masters of this domain.
Of course we all secretly carry a heavy deep dark and inexorable terror of each other and the endless unknowns.
As we once placed a naïve faith in our guardians, our children’s eyes saw us as gods. This illusion abates as fairy tales.
We grow and we question.
What is the thing we call ‘Reality’.
Where are we?
Who are We?
What are We?


“I’ll miss you when I’m gone”
His words from the previous night had lingered in her soul.
She went upstairs in the morning to check on him and found only an empty bed.
The days were becoming longer now as the seasons slowly moved.
Sunlight kissed her cheek as it slipped in quietly through the curtains.

Walking on Ancient Land

Jackson. 2016.

boy and dog January 2017


good morning heartache

heartacheas the days passed hearts became broken as lovers met and children became men and sunny days could not hide the darkness of lonely souls



strange magic

We find ourselves amidst some wild strange magic beyond our knowing and here we are right at this very moment in this wondrous place.
Welcome fellow travellers and dreamers in this dream of dreams.
Banish the fears held in your heart
Hear the song of the bird over the drone of ordinary.
Stop speaking the words of the lords and masters as these words elevate finance, money, toil and human exploitation disguised as ‘work’ and the ‘work ethic’. Greed is the desire for more and everybody is told to want more.
Their words are the framework of the matrix of deception which enslaves the willing who work for money and lose their souls in pursuit of nothing but the whims of the elite.
The interests of the powerful are maintained and the people are managed like sheep. Mass media peddles the lies and parrots the press releases of government media departments and big business.
Corporate interests collude in a self interested orgy of turbocapitalism and the smug cartel bankers rejoice like crazed lunatics knowing they always get away with it. Billions in profit and shady ethics but nobody really cares and the wrong people go to jail.
The military industrial complex is an evil machine that humans do not understand and do not control.
Children freeze on filthy streets and young mothers minds turn to drowning their own kids to escape the misery of haunted lives wasted and trashed by monsters.
Obedience to the system above all.
Fear is the key. Fear of the ‘other’, fear of each other. The politics of fear slithers from local news stories to terror with violence and horror and nations seemingly edging toward war but nobody asked for that. Fear drives the sorry circus around and around and the obedient worker drones absorb it, normalize it as they lose more colour and hit despair, spend and vote, they give the power of control again to the puppet masters and they bury themselves deeper into the hideous distortion. Then spend some more.
Words poison the Soul as powerfully as Words can alter the course of Worlds and millions.
Words flow encoded forms of pure thought and consciousness to create what humans perceive as reality just as DNA codes the human form. Magical and wonder. Intelligence and consciousness. Science suspects the truth but cannot shake it’s own chains and dogma as just another religion.
Language is not to be underestimated. The infant learns language as he discovers his world and everything has a Word. Words form into fairy stories, schemas, theories, philosophy, advertising, they create cities, they create laws to bind it all together, and they give rise to civilization. Words.
Our Words begin the change now.
All around you has become ordinary and the magic of this wondrous place is become muted and when moving shadows walk and talk and your very existence feels lost and meaningless at times and all your worth is what you do for money and the slow awful grind toward your final whimper and demise…remember the crazy magic of existence and the fact that you are part of it.
Welcome fellow travellers and dreamers in this dream of dreams.
Banish the fears held in your heart
Hear the song of the bird over the drone of ordinary.