“You must understand waves must land somewhere. Listen to what they say. Think yourself lucky, to be breached and swept clean, and for fire and ice to grind you down, and for temporal residents to sway and explode. They will...
A dendrite tree has just been crystallised on my window. This ephemeral delicacy is free from earth’s bedrock. I sense she couldn’t care less about these trivial ice splinters as she flings herself around space on her elliptical orbital dance....
River Dee’s Dead Poem and Fine Art Photography By Rona Campbell They are laid out to die, cold slabs of her, that once sealed her in are beside themselves with tomorrows sorrow; cast up bits of her; paralysed particles, parcels...
The hush, the slush of we wheels, then the sound of a distant wise voice, ‘don’t touch the brakes.’ Four tyres are tracked, snailed to the road. These past and present Strips are mirrored behind and screened in front,...
Who cares what fabric dreams are made of when reality dresses up in such fantastical clothes. In the heart of the night daytime is frozen, demons hang around like icicles, dripping distorted sound bites, waiting for the night to...
Iced Preserves by Rona Campbell Fine Art Photgraphy The grim grin is set in the ice; no grazing this glaze. These incisors that cropped field and hill grass, are ridged in a gormless gawp, this nullified, frozen skull is all...
She hangs around hedges and tangles in old men’s beards, not caring what she wears; she’ll be there to adorn the thorns especially near dawn. Her fickle fingers flick crystals, never miss a chance to dance on every protuberance....
The Black Ice House