Portsoy

Oidhche Samhna

Hannibal Lector meets Aleister Crowley

Autumnal dilettantism 2

Autumnal dilettantism

Autumn days, when shabby electric lights look resplendent, when trees look like bonfires in the oblique sun, when fields look like baize in mellow lamplight, we feel the need to pursue challenging aesthetic growth the way we feel a hunger for sugary snacks and creamy coffee and to have cheerful discussions. So we can treasure our new discoveries, like the plural accusative of bird, 'ornithas' was this word formed in the mouth of someone living in a sultry Aegean delta one summer? That is not significant. It can still perfectly describe the beings that flutter in the branches of trees on a crisp Septentrional morning.

Clavan

Sep moon

blue red verdigris

How I feel

How I feel when I ever have the misfortune to come across political commentary from 'the mainstream media': I feel like that bluebottle. We don't consume the MSM it consumes us

Dealan De

Summer 2015

stag in Japanese rowans

july

A tale of two Scotlands

The first photo was taken before the 2014 referendum. The second was taken a few days ago: a boarded up business celebrating 'British' military might, sending our young men to have their arms legs and faces blown off for career politicians to act big in Washington. It rained on their parade. July 4th. Obviously a date chosen to flatter Americans, who celebrate the defeat of Britain, before it set about committing the American Indian genocide and mass slavery.

summer

summer

Deer

Cervids are often reservoirs of malady and savage towards each other, the momentum of their limbs can unsettle me, yet it is difficult not to see the beauty of these creatures as they retire to their glades and glens at sunset
Visage of a deer a melancholy mask for vesperal crags, oxidised rocks at sunset and glades where cool waters breed flies that scorch our skins with their jaws.

Stag

Misc

January Cat

Outside the frost and lethal chill from Siberia, darkness, stars, snow and dead deciduous trees. Yet does not a cat always live partially in summers to come and summers that have gone? My cat who purrs in the darkness when I put the light out and who snuggles on my hand. How much worse a January night without a cat's paw touching my hand in the darkness.

Blue we see in dreams