Photographs
Thank you for taking the time to navigate to my photo gallery.
Here, I hope to collate some examples of my work. Sadly, I do
not get much time to photograph any more, but I am hoping to
get back to it in the summer, with the advent of some new models.
You can view the images from this page, or choose a
tour to allow me to guide you through my images. If you wish to mail me with
your comments, I would be grateful to receive them.
Here is the Guinevere that is
little known, the frightened, young girl. Nervously contemplating life in
the outside world, life with Arthur, away from the confines of her safe life.
|
Awaiting her King
|
Morgaine, much maligned, her desire,
her desperation to preserve the old ways. She will always be remembered
here as the bearer of the sacred sword, when she took her place as the
Lady of the Lake on the Isle of Avalon. One day, she may bestow her grace,
upon another, when the need is greatest.
|
Morgaine
|
The myths are not gone, the gods and godesses of the old belief have life. They simply sleep, waiting for
their moment, their time. You step over her, you cannot even see her, but
she is there...
|
Grove Sleeper |
|
Water Sleeper
|
The one event that we can rely on, is that death will one day come for us.
Is this morbidity ? Or the simple acceptance, that one day, we will return
to the state from which we came ? Or are we gladly returning, to our
mother's arms...
|
Hand
Feet
Back
Foot |
Given back to those of Avalon,
the Sword will return with the Once and Future King, to aid Britain
in her times of trouble. If you look carefully, as you travel around
this great land, you might just catch a glimpse of that fabled blade,
glistening in the mist of myth, awaiting its call. |
Excalibur |
Crashing waters rain down, where once the pagan stood,
peacefully worshipping her gods |
Waterfall |
At Owain O'Goch's castle, he imprisoned his brother, falsely
accusing him of adultary with Owain's wife. Red hair flowing, sword
planted firmly under fist, he demanded eighteen years of his brother's
life. |
Castle |
This was her domain, the place that she retreated to when all
else became difficult. For it was here that her power was strongest
|
The Glen |
She retreated here to replenish herself. To allow her soul to
settle, before the next struggle to retain her religion for the land,
to stop it dying under the weight of the Roman boot.
|
Spine of the Glen |
The lot of the Seer is not an easy one. To know the future, and
not be able to change it... the pain was often too much to bear.
|
The Seer |
On occasion, despite all around you, you can still see the Dragon's
breath, snaking, coiling, pervading our lives... |
Dragon's Breath |
It is still possible, to walk down that quiet country lane, to
feel the land underfoot, and still imbibe the tranquility of this
country that is England
|
Country Lane |
Look down from the ruins of what some believe is the Grail Castle,
and you will remember the story of Bran. Of how is head was buried
at the Gates of London, to protect the city from danger - this is
the fire that he was forged in, the land that made him great |
Valley |
Her self-imposed penance for love, for the tragic demise of her
beloved husband, and the death throes of the land, was to remain in
a Nunnery, and pray for forgiveness... |
Altar |
In our dreams, she rests, this Lady of the Lake, awaiting her
return at our land's hour of need, but for now she sleeps...
|
Avalon |
The house was empty now, but there remained the ghosts, the haunting
of happier times.
|
House |
She worshipped only the sky above her - forsaking all other gods, she
summoned the powers of wind and weather, and commanded them to do her
bidding...
|
Wind and Sky |
Sometimes, our opinion of ourselves sinks to such a depth, that it
can only be described by analogy...
|
Reflection on the self |
She was proud, Nimue, and her lust for knowledge was great, but it
was untamed, and without direction.
|
Nimue |
In this world of commerce and strife, the world of myth is far from us,
but one day, it will turn to face us once more, and will dazzle us
with its rich tapestry.
|
Contemplation |
Guinevere held on to her faith until the end. For her, truth was in
the Christian cross. With time however, she begun to understand that
|
Religous Conviction |
From the corner of your eye, in an instant, you may still see the
remenants of another age, the beauty of the Golden Age is still with
us - we just need to know when not to look...
|
Wood Nymph |
Where before the Dragon was everywhere, invincible and unchangeable,
now it is in pain. The stakes we drive between its scales, tear at
its flesh, for it cannot forsake the land. Look deep, you will see its
tears...
|
The Dragon's Tears |
She hides herself, from the world. You can pass her and see nothing
but a tree. Put your ear to the rough bark however, and you may
hear a faint gasp of breath...
|
Dormant |
In the bowels of the earth, within the coils of the sleeping dragon,
Morgaine venerates the Sword, held for the moment of the return of the
King.
|
|
Here is the road to Camelot. Here is the road that we must find.
We must retrace our spiritual selves to the Golden Age
|
The Road Back... |
Untitled 1
Untitled 2
Return to Main Page