Every image has a story
Reaching out, pulling, pushing, driving, seeking. The tendrils of emotion writhing and squirming in patterns balanced by their opposition. Cradled, guided, caressed and carried toward their goal. But question the goal you must and feel the movement of the current and see where it may end.
Feeling strength and weakness in all that stretch, shrink, collide and separate, that burn and calm the racing of the heart.
I tried to catch running water but all I got was this.
Deep, deep down in amongst the undergrowth, thickness, darkness and lif…light.
The old die young but never lost, they stand and wait until new will pass… Waiting till rotting breeds new life and turns what was old into a… (pause)
Sanctuary and shelter new and old will give new stories to all both young and old.
We sat next to each other, our shoulders touching, it was intimate but somehow distant at the same time. It was not the ‘first time’ feeling, that electricity, those nerves, but it was exhilarating in its own way. Neither of us moved, nobody pulled away or became uncomfortable, we just sat there enjoying the bodies connected.
Then, after a while, I began to feel the rise and fall of her chest, up and down, relaxed, calm, but excited. I listened with my shoulder and my body followed, my breathing matching hers. I focused on the tempo of her breath and my body relaxed into hers. My heart smiled.
Life From the Dirt 