Exposure № XXXX: A Place Called Home II

Photographer Suzie Chaney shares the first part of her series titled A Place Called Home.

Chaney 6

She tells us: “I stumbled across this tiny French village house, untouched for over 30 years. Luckily I had a camera with me, one I had just picked up at a junk shop and had loaded it with film but I had no idea if it worked. I shot these the little details with it, despite not knowing if they would even come out!”

Chaney 3

 

Chaney 2

 

* * * * *

Suzie Chaney is an artist living in the middle of nowhere between Toulouse, Spain and the sea. She primarily works with sculpture, printmaking, books and photography. Her work is inspired by precious fragments of flesh, bone and the mind. Fractures in time and structure and involuntary memory as fleeting moments of dappled light, the breeze through the window and the thing you may have seen in the corner of your eye. Check out her contributions to Snake-Oil Cure

Advertisements

Exposure № 119: A Place Called Home I

Photographer Suzie Chaney shares the first part of her series titled A Place Called Home.

Chaney 1

She tells us: “I stumbled across this tiny French village house, untouched for over 30 years. Luckily I had a camera with me, one I had just picked up at a junk shop and had loaded it with film but I had no idea if it worked. I shot these the little details with it, despite not knowing if they would even come out!”

Chaney 4

Chaney 5

* * * * *

Suzie Chaney is an artist living in the middle of nowhere between Toulouse, Spain and the sea. She primarily works with sculpture, printmaking, books and photography. Her work is inspired by precious fragments of flesh, bone and the mind. Fractures in time and structure and involuntary memory as fleeting moments of dappled light, the breeze through the window and the thing you may have seen in the corner of your eye. Check out her contributions to Snake-Oil Cure

Dungeon

Here souls raged
but now there’s nothing but concrete walls
scratched up with names and dates.
I rub my hand across these gravestones in progress.
There’s a hardness
but where’s the fierceness.
One man watched as bindings slowly
cut through his ankles.
Another slapped his head against a rock like a sack.
Some withered in the corners.
Others were bolted to the wall.
No future and yet, for all my efforts at imagining
myself in their place, the past tells me nothing.
Where is the torture? Where is the agony?
Surely the spirit seared with fury
even as the body slumped.
Couldn’t such anger, such frenzy,
survive the wracked, wrecked, skeletons?
No, this prison block is calm.
Swallows build nests. Mice dig holes.
Tourists saunter through.
At ten bucks a pop, the jailers are absolved.
So feel the cold stone, stroke the rusty metal…
forgive yourself into the bargain.

* * * * *

John Grey is an Australian born poet who works as financial systems analyst. Recently published in Poem, Caveat Lector, Prism International and the horror anthology, “What Fears Become”, he has work upcoming in Potomac Review, Hurricane Review and Pinyon. His other contributions to Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

Triumph

Luke Bestfor Natalie

Over the ridge,
down through the ravine
where the sky cannot see

and the goat tracks
hide their serrations,
there is a great

yawn of pasture.
I went there today
far from this monument.

I peeled myself
from this stiff bed
threw off sheets

fed them to flame
felt the fizz of motion
and ran and ran and ran.

* * * * *

An emerging poet from Toowoomba, Luke Best has held numerous atypical jobs such as Pest Controller and Postie and aspires towards a career as a Fireman. His poetry stems from an upbringing in his beloved Darling Downs and is based on regional idiosyncrasies found therein. A child of the 80s, he shares his birth year with influences like Sarah Holland-Batt and LK Holt. He was highly commended in the 2010 Thomas Shapcott prize.

This is his first contribution to Snake-Oil Cure

Guest-edited by Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke

Exposure № 112: Night Works

A long wait

Closed (from a long time)

Only diesel

Photographer Davide’s first project, “Night Works”, brings him to places from his daily life, revisiting them at night, when “the absence of people and the inactivity of the structures let the imagination go away or even stay, transforming what seems familiar and obvious.”

* * * * *

Davide, aka Thinredline, is 43 years old and lives in Mantua, Italy. He is not a professional photographer. His submissions to Dr. Hurley’s Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

See Naples and Die

On the wall of this hotel
There’s a framed photograph
Of a balcony in Naples
Overlooking the bay
And on a table in the foreground
Is a sign in three languages
That reads “Please don’t lean over”
Slightly unnerving perhaps
Suggesting a great drop
Hidden behind the flower bowl
Adorning this charming scene

It’s a black and white picture
For effect not because it’s old
With a message that is casual
Mysterious and cold
“Rest here in peace
And you will come to no harm
But don’t lean over too far
Or you will find death
Waiting open armed
On the rocks below you”.

* * * * *

David Subacchi is a well known poet and performer of his work in Wales and the North West of England. He has been published in both Welsh and English and hopes one day to write in Italian too. His English Language Collection ‘First Cut’ was published by Cestrian Press in 2012. His contributions to Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

Exposure № 075: Color, Texture

.

ward-winning 15-year-old photographer Eleanor Leonne Bennett tells us about some of her color photography this week. To see more of her black and white images go to Exposure № 073: High Contrast.

“Rain over oil” is a photo of an oil spill taken on a road in my home village.

“Time passes me” is a self-portrait. I’m kissing away the precious moments in time. It’s about letting go of something you never really had in your grasp.
“Urban decay – Morris Minor”: I have a Morris Minor car that is falling to pieces in my back garden. It’s a source of constant inspiration. It is fascinating to watch it fall apart and take photos of it doing so.
“Eleanor Leonne Bennett & Reza Deghati” was taken at the world photography festival in London, of the National Geographic Photographer Reza Deghati. It was an incredible day meeting him, the best day of my life photographing the world around me.
* * * * *
Eleanor Leonne Bennett is a 15 year-old, internationally award-winning photographer and artist who has won first places in contests from National Geographic, the World Photography Organisation, Nature’s Best Photography, Papworth Trust, Mencap, the Woodland Trust, and Postal Heritage. Her photography has  been published in the Telegraph, the Guardian, the BBC News website and on the cover of books and magazines in the United States and Canada. Her art is globally exhibited, having shown work in London, Paris, Indonesia, Los Angeles, Florida, Washington, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Canada, Spain, Germany, Japan, Australia and at the Environmental Photographer of the Year Exhibition (2011). She was also the only person from the UK to have her work displayed in the National Geographic- and Airbus-run “See The Bigger Picture” global exhibition tour with the United Nations International Year Of Biodiversity 2010.  
Her other contributions to Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

Exposure № 073: High Contrast

.
e start this week
with photography from award-winning 15 year-old British photographer, Eleanor Leonne Bennett, who tells us a little about some of her black and white photography. We’ll feature more of her photos in the coming weeks.
“Unpublished 2” is of two people falling out of a boat , taken at Tod Brook in Whaley Bridge, Derbyshire. Their sails came down and everything started to go wrong; they were good-humoured though, and thought it was sweet that I captured it.
 
“Least Said Soonest Better” is an image of my mother when she was seriously ill with pneumonia and pleurisy. She is  recovered and now currently leading a very healthy existence.
“Boat” is a photo taken when I walked to the dentist. My mum doesn’t drive, so we walk most places. We walked along canals and saw many barges like this one. I would love to live on a barge for awhile. I bet it is great fun being able to travel slowly, never missing a beat or photo opportunity.
“Alan with lung cancer – worry of the one in three” is a image of my father’s friend Alan Arnfield, who at the time the image was taken was suffering from lung cancer. He has since recovered.
* * * * *
Eleanor Leonne Bennett is a 15 year-old, internationally award-winning photographer and artist who has won first places in contests from National Geographic, the World Photography Organisation, Nature’s Best Photography, Papworth Trust, Mencap, the Woodland Trust, and Postal Heritage. Her photography has  been published in the Telegraph, the Guardian, the BBC News website and on the cover of books and magazines in the United States and Canada. Her art is globally exhibited, having shown work in London, Paris, Indonesia, Los Angeles, Florida, Washington, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Canada, Spain, Germany, Japan, Australia and at the Environmental Photographer of the Year Exhibition (2011). She was also the only person from the UK to have her work displayed in the National Geographic- and Airbus-run “See The Bigger Picture” global exhibition tour with the United Nations International Year Of Biodiversity 2010.  
This is her first contribution to Snake-Oil Cure.

The Colorado Branch

a ring of stars foments
brass aspen staffs
to inhabit the wind
from the frozen north

dusk is blue of mountain
white of river
and light from faces
on a coppery porch

people feeling the same
as they have
two hundred years

quick
take the photo now
call it
“those who know what it is like to love”

beyond the fence
critters swallowed
by holes in the ground
or coming snow
or the upturned splendor
of the dying leaves

* * * * *

John Grey is an Australian-born poet, but has been a US resident since the late seventies. He works as financial systems analyst, and has recently been published in Xavier Review, White Wall Review and Writer’s Bloc with work upcoming in Poem, Prism International and the Cider Press Review. John Grey has been published recently in The Talking River, South Carolina Review and Karamu with work upcoming in Prism International, Poem and The Evansville Review.

His other contributions to the Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

Impression № 042: Boston

Kathleen Romana on her painting “lilacs in blue vase”:

The painting is acrylic on canvas. It is about things I loved as a child in Boston. I loved the pigeons, they were always on the fire escape (they’re everywhere in Boston), and in the spring walking home from school, there were lots of lilac bushes everywhere. (The smell is so amazing.) The apartment building that I lived in as a child looked out onto a little courtyard.

Boston

There’s a cool breeze blowing
through open apartment windows,
the smell of haddock and onions,
baked potatoes, cooking in the kitchen,
so I sit on the fire escape
and listen to city sounds,
people sounds, family sounds,
that travel up and down the block,
meander through alleyways,
and I think I’m obsessed with life.
All these people circling around the same questions
with so many different answers .. the same answers,
the answer … falls in light and shade
walks around and through,
laughing now and then.

Lately I wonder how life ever got so tangled,
war, after war, year after year,
no clear victory or defeat, no time,
to heal, or to read ancient writings, in the phases of the moon,
no patience, for slow revelation.
The importance of integrity of thought and action,
of mind and body is laid bare in this atmosphere,
where words seem to be set crosswise, or dangle
from webs of loosely formed fabrications,
and questionable motivation.

Washing dishes at the kitchen sink,
bubbles of soap float and pop under running water,
the dish rag glides over scraps of fish and potatoes,
clear water shimmers in sheets
over pale blue, green, and amber wild flowers
painted on the plate.
Wild flowers, have such a short season I think,

when you measure time and distance in minutes and inches
that never stretch long enough. I place the dish in the drainer,
and watch dish water run out of the sink, like fear runs from tears.

Somebody’s playing Jazz upstairs, so I take my front row seat
on the radiator, feet on the window sill, and listen,
to the music, to night time sounds. Street lights blink on,
outlining the silhouette of a man and woman
on the stairs across the street. Jazz fills the small sliver of
air between their bodies, she runs her finger around the
rim of her glass, and I’m reminded of the Zen archer who is
one with the bow, the arrow, and the target..
There are other people moving in the background,
all with their own dangerous secrets, each with unique, singular meaning,
but this couple, seems to almost be a product of the sound,
it’s not what it looks like nothing ever is.
I’ve seen that man standing at the harbor at dusk,
looking out to sea. His church is out there,
where he worships watery ocean gods
gods of tide and storm.

She is my strength and my song,
this city where I grew up
cradled in her centered, balanced quietness,
aware of her harnessed fierceness, her engaged alignment,
It’s hard to describe sensation with words.
Words tend to remove the sting from pain, and the climax from pleasure,
and the mind only reveals itself, to itself, in visions.
I do know though, there were never, any boundaries,
not then, or now, that I did not allow.

* * * * *

Kathleen Romana grew up in Boston; she uses her hometown as a point of inspiration for some of her poetry and artwork. Kathleen is a poet, performer and visual artist, living in Austin Texas.

*

This week is being guest edited by Australian poet Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke.