the .moon's. quiet. daughter


h.o.m.e ............s.a.r.a.h...e.l.w.e.l.l ............ e.l.s.e.w.h.e.r.e .............s.e.e.d.s...&...s.t.a.r.s ............d r e a m i n g...t.a.l.e.s





July 20, 2017

the season of the bandaged moon



I am using stock or borrowed photos here at the moment to give me breathing space. The heart of winter is beautiful but I always find my photography inspiration lapses at this time. You can still see my pictures on instagram, at least at the moment (is anyone else getting bored with instagram?) but I feel just for now I want to focus on words here. Using others' photos or illustrations means I can do that rather than having to wait until I find a photograph of my own that I want to use.

Another reason I haven't been doing much photography is because I've been preparing the new edition of Deep in the Far Away. It's been a great deal more time-consuming than I expected. Over the next couple of days I will reveal the new cover, and will follow in the next week or two with information about the ebook and a very limited number of handbound paperback copies. (I looked at all the professional printing options and they were too expensive, especially considering the book is a fundraiser.)

When I opened my front door this morning, a frail moon, bandaged in gauze, looked down at me from the cool dark sky. She had the sea like her shadow beneath her, full of secrets, bones. This is what I love about winter - the frailty and feralness. The being wild and slow, old and yet growing lovely buds of dreams. For me, it is a magic that must be written, not photographed, for words are my first love, my heart's native language, the ladder I wove for myself as a child so I could climb out of my private world of enchantment and engage with everyone else (and the way I can return to that world when everyone else exhausts or trammels me.) I'm sure I will return to the observational art of photography in spring, when the flowers open.



picture by neest, a wonderful design company