August 5, 2014

'One sees Time adorned with green foliage,

sometimes as pleasant as an angel,

then suddenly change and become quite strange.

Never does Time persist in one state.’

Translated from the Ancient French script on the tapestry ‘Time’, woven with silk and wool near Lyon in the year 1512.

The piece is housed in the Cleveland Museum of Art.

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July 21, 2014

Short film ‘A Day in the Hayfields’ (1904) by Cecil Hepworth.

This was happening 110 years ago this year. It all passes so fast.

"The day was over and we had used it, running errands or prowling the fields…It was then that I began to sit on my bed and stare out at the nibbling squirrels, and to make up poems from intense abstraction, hour after unmarked hour, imagination scarcely faltering once, rhythm hardly skipping a beat, while sisters called me, suns rose and fell, and the poems I made, which I never remembered, were the first and last of that time…"

Laurie Lee

July 19, 2014
Edge of the Solway. Wintertime, 2013.

Edge of the Solway. Wintertime, 2013.

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July 17, 2014

"A poet cannot continue to be a poet if he feels that he has made a permanent conquest of the Muse, that she is always his for the asking."

Robert Graves

July 14, 2014
The world is just one giant treadmill of wonder.
Clarity, texture, and exploration in the frame of time. A Hill. Summertime, 2014.

The world is just one giant treadmill of wonder.

Clarity, texture, and exploration in the frame of time. A Hill. Summertime, 2014.

July 8, 2014
Everything we put onto the land feeds the sky sooner or later.
Erosion on the Inner Hebrides. Summertime, 2014.

Everything we put onto the land feeds the sky sooner or later.

Erosion on the Inner Hebrides. Summertime, 2014.

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June 8, 2014
The world would be empty without trees.

Ridge atop Goat Crag. Summertime, 2013.

The world would be empty without trees.

Ridge atop Goat Crag. Summertime, 2013.

May 29, 2014
In these strange, digital days the things that Google does not know are becoming the most valuable.
A fell somewhere. Sometime, 2013.

In these strange, digital days the things that Google does not know are becoming the most valuable.

A fell somewhere. Sometime, 2013.

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May 24, 2014
Your boundaries are trivial and frail. Vessels of a rotted dynasty. We will consume them as we will consume your laws and petty clocks, and all will once again be earth.

Rolls of wire in the ground below Widow Hause. Summertime, 2014.

Your boundaries are trivial and frail. Vessels of a rotted dynasty. We will consume them as we will consume your laws and petty clocks, and all will once again be earth.

Rolls of wire in the ground below Widow Hause. Summertime, 2014.

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Filed under: pictures time 
May 24, 2014

"The Neanderthals who buried their companions with such care seem to have imagined that the visible, material world was not the only reality. From a very early date therefore it appears that human beings were distinguished by their ability to have ideas that went beyond their everyday experience. We are meaning-seeking creatures…Myth is about the unknown; it is about that for which initially we have no words. Myth looks into the heart of a great silence."

Karen Armstrong

May 15, 2014

"I remember this guy, his name was … Blackjack. He died. He only had one leg, and he died. And I think that was Blackjack making those noises."

Screenshots and dialogue from Days of Heaven (1978, Terrence Malick)

May 12, 2014
Many strange spells are still cast in the English countryside. The old Gods do not die.
Head of Scarecrow. West Cumbria, Springtime, 2014.

Many strange spells are still cast in the English countryside. The old Gods do not die.

Head of Scarecrow. West Cumbria, Springtime, 2014.

May 7, 2014

Annual days of note take their place in things.

Wires above. Christmas Day, 2013, and Wheel-machine by fallen barn at Sosgill. New Year’s Day, 2014. 

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April 26, 2014

People will tell you that it’s a small world, but I’ve never held with that. It’s plenty big enough for a man to get lost in.

Four wake ups in the South West. Summertime, 2010.

April 24, 2014
Travel in any form makes it obvious that there are more paths than it is possible to tread. When moving along roads we look along directions which get passed by, and it is at these crossroads where the dreamers touch pen to paper, continuing onto more private journeys. This is a direction in itself, and one whose road does not end.
Heading South on the M1. Spring, 2014.

Travel in any form makes it obvious that there are more paths than it is possible to tread. When moving along roads we look along directions which get passed by, and it is at these crossroads where the dreamers touch pen to paper, continuing onto more private journeys. This is a direction in itself, and one whose road does not end.

Heading South on the M1. Spring, 2014.

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Filed under: pictures travel 

© John Porter 2010 - 2014

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