tank talk

I wonder what these fish communicate 

to each other.

Photo: At a market, Paris

new zeal and

Today, zeal. I am

in that land, and

all is well.

Photo: A peony bloom

singing morning

These men sang and sang one morning. We heard them 
before we saw them. The street where they were singing runs alongside a park, where children play in sand, and ping pong.  
When we left, the song lingered even longer. 
Photo: A gay men's choir, Paris

give, love, receive

How I love letters.
The giving and loving and receiving, collecting cards and pieces to write on, recollecting ones that have been held, kept, maybe in a box. Please give, love, receive.
Photo: Broadway, Worcestershire, England

eating a film

A Saturday night, and three of us sat, mildly swiveling in these chairs, not just with a good film, but with a meal, wine, friendship, cider. Thank you.
Photo: With B and R, Regal Cinema, Evesham, England

again, forever

I just spent a few days with my sister elin, and 

here we are again, forever.

Photo: elin and me, 2007

rock skin water

There is a rock we swim out to. We sit,
warm ourselves on the sunned stone,
and then return.
Photo: South China Sea

peace graffiti

Coming into Paris on the train, it is graffiti that greets you.
And stays.  
Photo: Peace stool along a sidewalk, Paris

kiss reflections

The sculptures reflect, 

the kiss kisses. 

Photo: Installation by Nicky de Saint Phalle,
beside Pompidou Centre, Paris

I am feeling Paris

In Paris, streets are full of space.
Please feel.
Photo: Words on a wall

to be with animals

We saw this animal yesterday in our neighborhood. Also wolves and wolverines. Deer. Rabbit. Antelope. All dead but living, with paintings of their habitat, cased specimens of their poop, poetry by Jean De La Fontaine. Below, near the floorboards of the museum, pretend-mouseholes and cat boxes, and above, bird cages. Press a button: birdsong. And on one wall, a talking boar.
Photo: Polar Bear, 
Musee de la Chasse et de la Nature, Paris

made for the eye

A friend made this room 
to see in, within, from.
Photo: K's and R's home, London

knock knock

I arrive before 7 o'clock in the morning. The homes on the lane are sleeping. One, two or three bottles of milk wait by doors. I slowly walk the morning with my camera as I wait to knock. A long black cat joins me for a while. 
Photo: D's and S's door, near a steam train, trees, pubs and The Thames

acknowledge love

I like to be with friends in their homes, 
know their created spaces, acknowledge 
what they love. 
Photo: a painting by Paul Klee

tonight jet

Tonight I will be on a jet plane, 
from one point to another.
Photo: Giza, Egypt

ready for the road

In a few hours, the things I love in my Hong Kong home will be carried down 5 flights of stairs, put in a vehicle, and then shipped over sea. A road is beginning. I think I'm ready.
Photo: L on a New Zealand bridge

wind skin cloth

A friend of mine made these clouds of cloth.
They remind me of my love for hanging up laundry.
Photo: Made by Agnes Coy, New ZEALand
http://sotreadsoftly.wordpress.com/

Glee

See that green?
See that glee?
Photo: My nephew g

dirt diamond

This square of dirt reminds me of the pitcher's diamond, 
when I would aim the ball into the inside corner 
of the batting zone. 
Photo: Victoria Park, Hong Kong

translucent fin

I often say that every day is a birth
and one leaf is one moment.
The translucent fins speak for themselves.
Photo: Fish tank, Tin Hau, Hong Kong
It's your birth of a day, s and h

I think of Plath

It just started to rain. 
Photo: Mushrooms near the house, New Zealand

things lit

When I see this image again, months after I first saw it in the viewfinder, I see myself at a steering wheel, driving down a dirt road lit by Tannenbaum.

If I remember, it is two motorbikes covered in canvas at the end of a driveway. After how many glasses.

Photo: At a friend's home in Saikung, Hong Kong

radio silence

In an hour, I'll be on the radio, live.
We'll talk about life in Hong Kong, about my book.
Photo: Inside an elevator, Hong Kong Central Library

and we, humble

Last night began with a snail, long antennae, long tail. Then warm music in a park from a man from Japan. We thanked him and he received.
Always the moon, seen through trees with orange flowers, through high rises with how many rooms and relationships, through lit clouds thinning, running, darkening, thickening.
And we, like the moon, humble.
Giving, receiving, believing. Again.
Photo: Street cones, Tin Hau, Hong Kong

painted circles

I met the person who created these circles of life. She painted
them for her mother.
Photo of a painting (detail) by Mandy Emerson: http://www.mandyemerson.co.nz/

I believe in him

I meet a tall man with kind eyes. I believe in him.

He lives with care. He lives in a room down the hall

from this shower, and single toilet, which he shares with eight people. Yes, somehow, I believe in him.
Photo: Shamshuipo, Hong Kong

yes to love and roundness

Yesterday, a lovely meal and lightning by a wide window
to hills. Today, full moon, another meal with friends, poems, neighbo(u)rs. Yes to love and roundness.
Photo: By the Thames

soft and strong

I once thought I might be a parent,
with a child or two to hold, kiss, grow....
Time keeps moving and now, years later, a child
has arrived in my life, already as tall as I.
Soft and strong.  
Photo: Egyptian king and child (postcard)
Happy Birthday again L, am glad you like the presents.

I like the fringe

The Fringe Club. A home. 
My first exhibition was there, in the 90s. Then Delicate Access in 2004. And how many Wednesdays of words, like last night, when we launched my new book of - and for - Hong Kong, called 'Fifty Stories Fifty Images', and the room was full of warmth. Thank you.
Photo within the 2004 invitation card: Tarragona, Spain

we will give

Tonight, there is an event called OutLoud.
We will tell stories. We will give.
Photo: Peng Chau pier, Hong Kong
Information on OutLoud: Event information

more than sleep

Last night I slept twelve hours and still I want more.
Photo: Duck in New Zealand