Honoré Dupuis ~ Guarded #writephoto

There was no one at this desolated place where he had expected to see her. Yet her message had been clear: “Meet me at the guard, the highest point on the hill, where you have a full view of the mesa.”

Continue reading at Of Glass and Paper

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Winter’s Morning Moon ~ Steve Tanham

As January lets go its dark and icy grip, passing us, with a smirk, into the often colder clutches of February, the marginally lighter mornings contain surprises that are harbingers of the spring to come.

One of these is what I have come to think of as the ‘winter morning moon’. Often quite high in the sky, the pale gold of this moon combines with the clearness of the winter air to provide a quality of light more associated with the sun.

Continue reading at Sun in Gemini

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North-easterly: Layers

A short walk along the coast from Craster is another of the most iconic sights on the Northumbrian shore…Dunstanburgh. The castle has inspired artists and poets over the centuries; Turner and Girtin both painted the ruins, and so did I, long ago, when I was teaching myself to paint. I had only ever seen the castle from a distance, though… this was the first time I would step within what remains of its walls.

Like the castle at Bamburgh, just nine miles up the coast, Dunstanburgh was built on a much earlier site. Our earliest ancestors had used the rocky outcrop and had built a promontory fort there, ringed with earthworks that were, almost two thousand years later, incorporated into the defences of the thirteenth century castle. It is a curious feeling to see those same ancient earthworks still intact, topped by the ruins of a grandeur a mere seven hundred years old.

The earth itself provides the foundations of the castle that is built on black basalt that juts up from the green earth and a gilded shore. Around the castle are the remains of the meres, the artificial lakes that would have provided fresh water for livestock and additional defences, whilst making the mirrored castle seem twice as impressive. There are fish ponds too, for the raising of freshwater fish, with the water being fed into the meres through a stone channel from a nearby spring. Within the castle is a well, and even besieged there would have been a water supply.

There are legends of tunnels connecting the castle to local farms and towers… stories of unknown men passing to and from the castle in secret through concealed trap doors. While it is possible that these legends are no more than a garbled memory of the water channels, it is no secret that Dunstanburgh was a place of intrigue and plots.

The castle was built between 1313 and 1322 by Thomas, the Earl of Lancaster. Thomas and his cousin, King Edward II had a very poor relationship and, by the time the castle was built, in full view of the royal castle at Bamburgh, Thomas saw himself as a rival for power. Having been involved in the capture and murder of Piers Gaveston, Earl of Cornwall and the king’s favourite in 1312, Thomas was severely out of favour at court, so the castle may have been a safe retreat, away from the king’s armies in the south.

He may also have built the castle as a direct challenge, a taunt or a political statement. It was one of the largest castles in the country and cannot have met with anything but the king’s displeasure. Whatever the reason, the castle never served Thomas’ purpose. He rode to war, but was himself captured and executed after the Battle of Boroughbridge. The stories tell that the executioner was unfit for his job and that battle-seasoned soldiers who witnessed the execution fainted as the headsman struck eleven times before finally ending Thomas’ life. It is, they say, for this reason, that his ghost walks the castle, carrying the severed head which bears an expression of utter horror…

Continue reading at France & Vincent

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…not as we know it. ~ Stuart France

secret

*

…Moments later the bars of blue light shimmered into three tightly clad figures.

Kirk, glanced expectantly around the room and sighed.

Spock arched a well manicured eye-brow skyward.

“An empty writing room,” pronounced Sulu, somewhat redundantly.

Kirk’s hand held communication unit twittered into life.

Continue reading at France & Vincent

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The Living One: Caravan to Cairns… Stuart France

St John the Evangelist

*

“We’ll need books!”

“What do you mean?”

“All good schools have a range of associated texts which their students can use as background reading.”

“That’s true, do we have any?”

“We may have a few…”

*

And so began what can only be described as a frantic scramble to put together and publish a catalogue of books with subject matter related to our new school.

We did well, and continue to do so, with upwards of twenty books now published under the Silent Eye imprint.

In the seven years of the school’s existence, this may be regarded as remarkable and probably has something to with the fact that what we have to say needs to be heard, and also acted upon!

There was though, a downside to this headlong dash into print. We were new to publishing and had a lot to learn. Some of our earliest efforts now look less professional than our later ones. This is inevitable.

In the case of ‘The Living One‘, which intertwines the story of a road-trip through the Australian outback with sayings from a now-infamous Gnostic text, I also felt that we got the balance slightly wrong with the emphasis on the ‘sacred’ rather than the ‘profane’ when the two should have been equally balanced. The primary motivators in this imbalance were the illustrations which we culled from our ‘church tapping’ exploits and which presented an orthodox view of the ‘Christian story’. This is not the one contained in the book…

Continue reading at France & Vincent

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Guarded ~ Ritu Bhathal #writephoto

Fearful
Terrified
I can’t get out

Concerned
Worried
Can’t see a way out

Continue reading at But I Smile Anyway

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Dawning

Sailing time’s ocean
A universe listening
Life embraces self
The gods laugh at childlike fools
Dazzled by eternity

*

No sacred magic
Celebrates the prisoned heart
Or ghost remembered
When morning awakens night
Broken dark devours joy

*

Dancing with flowers
Day breathes a sky of soft peace
Healing all secrets
And with wild perfumed breezes
Angels melt a marble star

*

 

For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Challenge

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Streaming #midnighthaiku

Explorations lost

Missing  light on darkest days

Mornings clad in grey

Multicoloured memories

Beckoning spring’s rainbow hues

 

 

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Searching ~ Paula Light #writephoto

The silver-haired man gazed at the desolate landscape, its sameness relieved by the presence of a large, layered boulder. “How could she have escaped?” he cried. “She was guarded day and night!”

“Sorry, boss.” The head searcher emerged from the other side of the rock, worry lines carving his face. He knew someone would get blamed for this, and harshly.

Continue reading at Light Motifs II

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A Visit from Roberta Eaton Cheadle & a Ghost! ~ Teagan’s Books

Reblogged from Teagan’s Books:

Roberta Eaton Cheadle (Image tomfoolery by Teagan)
Roberta Eaton Cheadle (Image tomfoolery by Teagan)

When I was a little girl, there were a few times when a group of kids would gather in the garage part of my parent’s modest home, because they liked the games I made up. One boy had the brilliant idea that we should take turns telling ghost stories. So, we turned out the light and got a flashlight to shine up onto the face of the storyteller.

This boy kicked it off with a story about a casket that roamed around. Everyone would squeal when he announced how many miles away the casket was. That was the extent of the story. When it got there, we were supposed to be terrified.  (Of course my parents were quick to put a stop to those shenanigans, but it was great while it lasted.)

Continue reading at Teagan’s Books

and did you know Teagan is now offering pre-made book covers?

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