Can you see Them
The Gate, the dark on dark shadows, the depth the portal delves too. I found this one day when enjoying myself in the wilderness. I felt the hackles on the back of my neck rise, turned and was standing a little ways from this, which I was sure had not been there the minute before.
This page is devoted to more pictures of things with disguised things in them. Can you see the guy in the centre staring at me?
This merged shot of my ruin (mine because I have named it The ruin, as opposed to just rocks in a wall…personally think there is something there; but am just possibly suffering the effects of isolation, seven month winters can do that to you, especially if you are on your own.
Just cannot get a clear shot of this fella, he must be right on the boundary, well, he is my westernmost standing stone. Can you see his horse tattoo, it reminds me of pictures of Ancient Greek pottery, and makes me think of Homers Odyssey and if I am trapped in a dalliance, on an island run by an ancient god who has had no one to play with for many, many years
I am sorry I marked up the photo; but can you see, the entire mountain is shaped to conform to the image of a sleeping giant. I hope he does not wake up and see what we have done to his bedroom. We are mining the mountain down on the other side; and that is a landfill in the bottom of the frame; the view from their is absolutely stunning, even if you do feel you are about to slip of the mountain and plunge into the river below.
I have renamed Stearn mountain. It is now called can you see them now? Because I have shown this to many people, and pointed it it, right from where this picture was taken; and not one of them notices the images in the trees. They are not photographic tricks, and with the building lending presence and perspective, you can see just how large and well defined they are! Someone has terraformed that mountain, when is the question I ask?
Can you see the faces of the little fry spirits in my fire: the are the spirit of the flame I think, created in the boundary where the fire transmutes the wood from log to flame…to charcoal…to ash…much like the cycle of a forest, that naturally renews with fire as it ages free, but becomes tangled and overgrown, or scraggly and dead if fire is suppressed and lumber is instead taken in lieu of the natural procession of the trees.
I find I need to add a randomness to everything I do, a piece of the fey, the chaos of the boundaries that form against the gateways that surround this place…
This one looks so much like a Greek soldier I wonder if Homer spoke the truth; which at this point does not surprise me, I call them hallucinations but they are anything but. They are surrounding me every which way I travel or look.
This is the westernmost entrance to Mackenzies exploration of the interior of Canada…t is within a few miles of Sir Francis Drakes sounding and dead reckoning remains he took, disclosed hundreds of years later and captured in a book called “The Secret Voyage of Sir Francis Drake,” which tells a story about his secret venture to find the north west passage; a secret the crown kept for 200 years. I think, me, that there is more to this secret than that; so much more. But I will suffice to state that Mackenzie passed within a few miles of my mountain home, far from the rainforest and spirit bears of the west coast interior. And the highway on top of the world, gets its start right near this plinth, in the town of Ocean falls; a modern day ruin, an pulp and paper boom town, one that was on my fathers lips when I was a baby, and Canada became the choice destination for my family…better opportunity was the refrain.