the dreamer

interrupted by a daydream

‘interrupted by a daydream’, 2014

The Dreamer

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Dreams: as vivid in my eyes as orchids.

Like them brilliant and opulent,

like them drawing through the giant stem

of living sap the juices of their strength,

like them flaunting an absorbed life-blood,

revelling in the fleetness of the minute,

then, in the next, pallid as the dead.

And when, softly, worlds pass overhead,

do you not feel their winds, flower-scented?

Dreams: as vivid in my eyes as orchids.

Yep, still here, still daydreaming …

This is the latest image in my in defense of daydreaming series, which is taking me in interesting directions. You can read more about it and find all the images in my artfinder shop.

© images and content Emily Hughes, 2014

words to shoot by: water

I was very excited to be selected to as a guest contributor on the words to shoot by blog after an open call for entries (if you scroll down to the guest contributions you will see my entry). Every other week a selection of contributors submits a triptych in response to a single word. This week the word was water, and here are the shots I came up with:

© images and content Emily Hughes and searchingtosee, 2012

About a girl

this summer she skipped and swam
clutched piles of acorns in her hands
her chubby limbs grew long and lean
hair tousled in the warm breeze
hidden treasures in secret places
dreams of ponies and princesses in faraway places
she fell in and out of love and
studied the morphing cloud-shapes up above
friendships were made then quickly forgotten
I dried her weary tears of frustration

this summer she let go of my hand
just for a little while….

Later I brushed the tangles out of her long brown hair, pulled it back.
She winced.
Too tight! She cried.
I smoothed the creases out of blue checked dresses
(blinking back the tears).

As she tugged white cotton socks up
over bruised shins.
Fastened up shiny black shoes and
fumbled with unfamiliar buttons,

she looked on, concern in her wide hazel eyes.
Don’t worry mummy, I’ll always be your little girl, she said
(I let the tears come).

This summer was hers for the taking,
but she hung back.
She wasn’t quite ready
(I was secretly glad).

Her time will come

For my beautiful girl

© images and content Emily Hughes and searchingtosee, 2012

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