Tag Archives: recolour

uncertain illuminations

illuminated barrier (blood magic) © 2003, 2015 Jered Dawnne

illuminated barrier (blood magic) © 2003, 2015 Jered Dawnne: a rose, sinking deeply in a fading sun

You reach a point on some days, when you’re inundated by futility and the knowledge that what will be will never be what you once hoped it would be. Life, the perpetual intercourse, works by its own design and under its own premises, and none of them involve you. You’re just coasting along on the thin, fragile crust of an unconcerned planet, elliptically orbiting a sun that slowly orbits the confluent center of a galaxy that owes you neither recognition nor recompense, and that’s just how it is. So you reach a point on some days, and that point is the place where you decide to drive on anyway, as you always do, or you finally decide to let it all go.

But I’m still here, still here, still here.

That sounds more melodramatic than intended, but I don’t know how else to say it. If you’ve ever battled with depression and anxiety, you get it, though. It’s been one of those weeks. 😉

Posted in lightwritten Also tagged , , , , |

caffeine tragedy

it wanders like the snow (caffeine tragedy) © 2003, 2015 Jered Dawnne

it wanders like the snow (caffeine tragedy) © 2003, 2015 Jered Dawnne

one of the ones i skipped, back in the day. i was shooting hand-held, and the light wind was just a little gusty and at an angle which caused the flower to move in odd ways, so some of the blur is natural. what you’re looking at was originally a bright, orange little flower, after the application of nearly a dozen separate processes. these lower-resolution versions inherit a certain patterning in the grain as a result of compression from the WordPress upload system. it’s actually an interesting effect, to me.

i have several photographs of flowers from this week back in 2003, when we had a series of afternoon showers in relative frequency. flowers don’t talk back, but they never really hold still, either. and i’m just not one to do the outdoor lightbox thing. oh well 😉

Posted in lightwritten Also tagged , , , , , |


weather, towering © 2014 Jered Dawnne

a view from Sulphur Mountain, Banff National Park, Alberta, Canada, looking roughly northward.

You fold yourself into a thing, because the enfolding is more significant and meaningful to you than the simple act of being there and participating in it. You move, within and between the trees and mountains for a while, hoping, yearning, needing to be a part of this place, wishing you had come to it sooner, had drawn it into yourself and defined yourself with it, by it, for it. You embrace it for the time you are there, but the time is too short, too involved, too limited, and you know that even when you return in the future, that visit will have the same inherent lack.

Having folded yourself into it, you are no longer merely yourself, and when you leave, some small but powerful portion of it comes away with you, inside of you and surrounding you, transparently opaque within your mind. It is written on the inside of your eyelids every time you dream; it is written on the inside of your mind every time you breathe. It haunts you, and the haunting becomes you.

As you have folded yourself into it, it has wrapped itself inside of you, between and within the folds of flesh and mind, but to say that it has become you is to make it less than it is. You have become a small portion of it, is the thing, and the becoming, then, has a magnetism that is both unavoidable and inescapable.

So, you know one thing: You will stand within it again, and you will walk beneath its eaves and breathe its air and hear its whispers in the leaves and needles, more clearly than you do as you dream each night. And once you have partaken of it again, the enfolding will redefine you.


Text and image © 2014 Jered Dawnne

Posted in lightwritten Also tagged , , , , , |

veiled intensities

a collection of retouched photographs from my trip to Alberta, Canada in the summer of 2014, done with a specific set of treatments. just wandering, for the joy of the thing.

Posted in lightwritten Also tagged , , , , , |