tangible shredded memories
count all numbers over golden stairway
wild gold used to know
local perfect location
cover your way arm length
seeing numbers of memories
third point of subject place
purple wave rolling golden beach
meaning of confronting lines
in your eyes
waterline
blurring my eyes with golden rules of location on waterline see it in the photographs perhaps read it in the lines maybe
golden line in poetry and writing any writing
golden ration in photography
art INSPIRING art
poetry about what
i seeing inside a certain piece of art
new way of writing PhotoPoetry
nothing to do
Yet it remains connected
Dumara is inspired by a song this song by Geoffrey Gurrumu Yunupingu
Only a few people speak this language, creating our own language inside the unknown language, hearing what is not said. Dumara said in dutch way, not english way, is what i could hear, from there the rest came.
In the Salix book the poetry is mainly shaped by inspirational art works, songs, paintings, sculptures even the names of colours.
Writing about what a piece of art makes me feel, makes me see, makes me hear.
On page 31 of the “Dropped Feather” book you find a poem with the title “Stoof”, here follows the inspiration of that poem.
The poetry in the book is about the moment. While taking the photos my mind wanders, sometimes to surprising places, at times following memory lane.
It took me a while before i found the place, cycling in memories on straight road framed with straight trees, along bare agricultural land.
Contrasting landscape compared with the river landscape, where so many of the photos come from. It is intensively farmed land and nature has no change, except along the edges. The above photo was taken in April 2020, ploughed soil, partly covered by plastic, artificial irrigated.
New land, the riverside is new nature, this is new created land from nature.
Once the land was a cultivated natural landscape with mainly Willows. The Willows were harvest for basket making and other crafts, including clog making, them traditional wooden shoes.
The land was swampy with many creeks and small lakes, flooded during the winter months. There were little hills, called Terps the top photo shows one of them Terps with a small house. The houses on the Terps in the old landscape were used as shelter and sleeping areas for the Willow-workers. The whole area is around 1100 hectares, or was 1100 hectares.
In 1926 they started to take out the Willows and filled in the many creeks and small lakes, by hand, with shovel and wheelbarrow. Work for the many unemployed man and woman from the locale area, it was the way they earned their ‘benefit’ literarily the only way they could survive.
Refusing to work here was loosing your ‘benefit’ and with no money, no food etc. etc.
The worst of all it was seen as charity. The new landowners became rich over the backs of the poor who found themselves in a situation, which was not their making.
This story i was told as a little girl when my parents took us on the bike (they never owned a car) to a place we called de Stoof but its official name is Stoop.
We would picknick there on a sunny summer day. The Stoop is situated on an old Terp and was, this always makes me laugh, given to the community ha ha ha, it was made by the community.
Sitting there on the picknick bench i wrote the poem you find on page 31. Why it ended up on page 31 is pure coincidence, it has nothing to do with the photo.
The Stoof was written on 24 July 2020, the photo under the poem was taken on 16 September 2020, the photo next to the poem, page 30 was taken on 1 June 2020. The way to create Photo Poetry in some way related yet not at all.
when you feel good
you can jog with blue hair
while smiling
when you feel good
you cope with remarks
wet camera
too late runs itself
going over into
mend
forgotten key
going over into
perfect
rattle of Motorway one site
rattle of geese, seagulls, coots other site
no matter
as light sparks even inside ears
1 became 3
walking filled with
inspiration
forgetting mindset
no matter
all will be fine
traditionally
topsy-turvy
instead
winding circuitous
mazy twisting
meandering
roundabout trick
In the proces of making a book-car to wander about with, showing the books, selling the books. It will hook onto the bike, butte, it looks boringly black.
Paint, waterbased gravity paint, to get the colours. Car was painted on the allotment in the open air.
People remember mostly the drop photos, so went to get the car with the camera, to take photos of dew on the paint. Walking as bike has not yet the ‘towbar’.
Just made it in time for the vanishing mist, almost there, forgot the key.
Got the photos as a background for a logo. AND
Walking back became just perfect, still water, morning light, floating catkins, perfect for the Salix book.
Will safe them perfect photos for the book only as always.
One day soon (hopefully) tourists will walk along the Windmills meeting me and the book-car.
The date for publishing is postponed as it takes the printer longer, to get it prefect.
Roos Boekjes
once sky high
acrobatting over under inside airflow
born sensation of aerodynamic
no need for academic
feeling perfect flow
avian composition
calamus writer
surface reality of vanes
keratin resistance
uniquely cover
bewildered
secondary flight forming inner wings
sorting out wind connections
Primarary Remiges flown by
lost colours of love
contour down
‘dropped feathers’ was written with calamus “Icalamus” one of the first desktop publishing programs available for all, who write.
noise over noise inside more noise need to get away from it can't work like this away 25 kilo metres searching for other sounds
here we go dark and cold scooter stink scooter noise, now there should go subsidies to electric scooters much better much better they who can afoord electric cars do they really need subsidies solved one problem in my mind just in my mind while fleeing what can not be left here we go dark and cold
you know that feeling of ultimate argument non winning sensations now here comes the camera excuse me what about them catkins ja you are in macro mode ja hey i am getting wet here ja no win situation
and again under water what do you want to achieve with them spots them white spots where did they come from in the first place not inside my lenses my light focus shows something else and again
silence of water music for mind slowly certainly coming and going reflecting movement let it be let it come let it smooth all away hundreds of photos coming and going suddenly Virginia Woolf flows by her shoes sink inside sand her pockets are filled with rocks her hair flows like waves over her facial expression just a moment out of hours reflecting in my mind her dead her books her words 3 women 3 timescales 3 livelihoods 1 movie hours away like my mind hours flowing on water forgetting all what can not be left leaving reality out of my mind like wolfs with dubble Osss creating stories making lines of words over screams entering my mind letting go of what lays behind entering what lays ahead in my mind just my mind not yours not his her lines are different than mine in offensive minefield going where insults solve into waterlines going where outrage sinks to bottomlines. yep here an old place a new way
hours later words later images later the certain need to go back headache picking up cold till the bones legs numbing battery low almost too late for bakery almost not yet so cakes and bread to celebrate hours hours in solitude when creativity flows the best now spending hours to fix it all inside my mind creating my own words creating storylines showing my vision what noise never will see what hurry never will see what concrete never will see
If you came this far to read what was written you might wonder i have lost my mind but no these are real feelings true feelings coming and going every day as i can not get used to city living inside a huge village but for dutch pricipes it is a village for me it is a city. To do what i do i need nature so need to escape.
My books are about just that in a certain way batteling against the stream in peace of mind.
Perhaps Virginia Woolf is the inspiration by the river.
More Virginia
None of the photos nor the poems will be published in the books they will stay unique for the books only, not for screens nor screams.
ReFine to finer to nicer to ReFlect of what is what should be ReJect some words some meanings ReDuce overload overmind ReConcile all pages one after an other
ReClaim your actuality within ReAct to certain feelings not all ReLease final seeing ReBel towards the end
You know that saying; “Steep Learning Curve” well it was and still is.
BUT
The final touches have been applied today the ISBN number was falling out of line.
The next book “Salix” renewed with learned lessons, meaning started again, with bleed.
Now back to making photos, writting poetry.
First letting go some frustrations.
Reflection on my mind to refine the next.
Just got the message will not make the deadline, reflect, it will be fine. On a later date.
wiggle waggle wobble
wiekie hooo
willy-nilly wimple wordsss
growing book
more pages
instant inspiration
on demand
experimenting on a flow
instantly
going
lucky feathers
in a bag
in on over glass
only when you read this
you see some background of
the book
while doing
discovering
that can this can as well as
Needed quick and smart to make extra pages for the book Today
While neighbours are drilling and filling and you don’t want to know
Lucky for the headphones with noise isolation just music
Lucky for my collecting habit, in this case glass and feathers
It worked
The book will be bound, therefor pages devided by 4, ok but
Left page photo right page poem, didn’t work unless
first page something else as well as the last page
so 4 more pages 2 added as photo-poem and 2 added as extra
ooooh and than the bleed the bid that is cut of oooohhhhh
well its done
soon
a story behind a story
the making behind the making
trail did you leave a trail today
or did you take a trail
which way is the way
on my way to ULURU
no shoes
going
long time ago
sand in a bottle
burned ocre
black writing
yellow rice
alone in a box one only
a handmade book, hand written, hand tide, handover
will be for sale
on the new website
Roos Boekjes is now life but not finished, than will it ever finish
never too old to learn to make a website using wordpress is just not the same as making a blog, oeps what was i thinking but it will happen
Uluru is a very special place. My journey was a part of a land art project “Journey Through 2 Cultures”
One day i might write about that project, maybe tomorrow, perhaps not
