Sleeplessness

At the time of the Gaza shelling in December 2008, it was hard to deal with so much death and despair.
There seemed no appropriate way to express horror at the massacre without burdening people more so I found myself praying to cope with the horrific nature of the war and I was praying because I was so powerless.



She is here with her great and infinite beauty.

Only love can stop this pain and only in love can there be beauty.

Beauty lies within in all things and to grow needs love.

Practise pointing out beauty everyday for when heart broken and bitter it is hard to see beauty.

When searching for something misplaced or lost it is important to look thoroughly and carefully.

When carrying the burden of pain sometimes it seems nothing or no one can ease it

but ask for help and what is needed will come.

Do not look to the pain for answers

but look to the strength of the person bearing up under pain

and help them stay strong rather than dissolving with them in tears and sorrow,

Love plants, love trees and love to care for them, gardens are a symbol of love and need to be honoured.

Buildings should be gardens of stone places for hope to grow.

Deep pain such that over whelms must seek love to quell its flow

but beware of pain’s residue if left penetrates strength unnoticed.

Seek love and beauty no matter how hard it is to find.

Road to Nablus from Sebastia and Al Bidan

On the road to Al Bidan is a rusting fair ground and a landed jet, the only Palestinian plane in the West bank.

A restauranteur set it up as an eatery in the hills, he was just ready to serve up when the Israelis established a check point next to his jet and so no one came for lunch, the jet and big wheel sit on the hillside alone amongst the dust and the rubbish near the now deserted check point.

The check point near the only Plane in Palestine.

The way back to Nablus from Sabastia.

Father and son out for a ride on this beautiful spring day.

I miss the light in Palestine the most I think, I love its intensity and how it makes thistles shine silvery purple in the midday sun.

I photographed so many thistles and other spikey plants...

River at night time

Steps from the fore shore on the north side of the Thames.

London is full of bizarre safety notices.

...and security guards

...and weird women in woolly hats

... and light reflections

... a brown gravy river

and pink neon strip lights.

Home at last by the river and an Inventory of my room.

Watching the Thames at low tide.

I am back in London now and it feels like watery soup after the dense intensity of Palestine. Something is missing and life feels diluted.

By the ghost bridge.
Cannon street Bridge
Tower Bridge
My room just before I bought a bed.

In my room there is a flying mermaid heading in the direction of Bow road, she is armed with mirror and comb, to serve as her sword and shield.

To her North from the white wall a carved wooden sun grins down upon a shelf-bound mermaid who reclines with mirror tucked between her head and shoulder.

A day of the dead skeleton, glitters suave in orange ribbons and a pink felt witches hat sits upon the grey crown of the rubber gas mask overlooking a mandolin.