Skin & Bark and Sand & Water

Notes from the lagoons, a short Film, the suspended unravel.

I’ve been walking the lagoons again. Most times in rain. Sometimes in wind-howl. Mud in my toenails, ripples in the fields of waves. The pregnant NOW that thrums the dreaming that is this place. Thread and weave and careful, as I scan and step and navigate these shifting tidal sandscapes.

A few days ago something undulates under my foot just before I put my weight on it. And I gasp. Stand stunned at what it probably was. Stingray. Grateful I am not standing speared in shin. I keep walking . . . and later I see three Eastern Shovel Nose Rays. Separate individuals. Aptychotrema rostrata.

There are no photos. I stand and gawp. On this particular occasion, the second individual pauses in its swim-away. Turns. Comes back to me. Right up close. Looks at me. ‘Hi Darling’.

The immense privilege.

What I did photograph was light on mother of pearl water-skin.
Sand.
Both together.
What I did photograph, was something that Shimmered:

A Woman of the Sea, in Eclipse.

She is

Sub-merged. Beneath form. Still in the stars, partly.
Unravelled, a-shimmer, dis-entangled.
Unwoven. Threads loosed.
No head, you will note.
She is still deciding;
retrograde.

She is myself.

My Photo Course, Photographing You And, will be with you in September.
That piece, I do know :)

I’m excited about this Course. Photography is a form of prayer, to me.
It’s such a simple activity. And since I only use my old iPhone 7 (and Snapseed for editing), it’s always available to me.

I walk,
I make pictures,
I write about that.

This is how I pray

It’s become a way of life.

Stingrays Know Other Dimensions

---

Reading.
Resting.
Simple stretching.
Wondering. Asking myself questions.
Remembering Lineage; mine.

Little walks.
Sometimes bigger walks.

Sleeping.
Simplified eating, to heal the alarming inflammation and autoimmune voices.

Patting my cat and
curling into my ex-husband’s warm body.
Laughing out loud with my son.

This is enough.

Eclipse blessings,

go gently, dear Ones

Stardust Still Catches Her Wings

Narelle xo

PS: I almost forgot! A wee film for you; just 2.34 mins duration. Bark & Sand.
I’ve had a go at the takes-a-long-time Substack video-embedding this time, so you can watch it here (I hope). Music: Contemplation by Ian Livingston.

I’d love to hear from you! This is, after all, a platform that offers community.