Friday, November 4, 2011

Of Weathered Wood and 'bandoned Boats . . .

.
.
.
.
What is it about peeling paint on the weather-beaten wood of ancient boats, many of whom will go down to the sea no more, left to their resting, rusting places in the mud of estuaries, which touches the heart just so ? Dreams of catching fish and crabs, hauling up the elusive lobster, landings in distant ports, pirates and pirogues, folk songs singing of cockles and mussels alive alive-oh, to be walking after Molly Malone, buying her fish to take home with a pint of ale for supper, smoking a pipe by the fire after. The memories of poems written or unwritten that permeate those planks, punctuated by a rusting nail, a corroded band of brass that bears the breath of salt mists and gossips of shrieking gulls, why does weathered wood conjure up such visions ? I shall not wax so prolific as a Melville or a Coleridge, with his rhymes of rime, I shall leave you to whatever rêveries these images may evoke.
.
("Rêverie", what a lovely word... my French dictionary defines it thus : "Etat de l'esprit qui s'abandonne à des idées, des images vagues". A state of mind which abandons itself to ideas and vague images. But in French, "vague" as an adjective means vague or uncertain, imprecise, but as a noun, it means "a wave", as in waves on the ocean... so "images vagues" becomes images of waves...) I leave you to these images...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Ah, after that little escape, that escapade on the vast seas of dreams, would you care to join me on board for a cup of fresh brewed coffee, ground from beans brought back in canvas bags from distant islands ? Do pull up a spot on the bench here, have a cuppa, and tell me where you've been off to.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

25 comments:

Chris said...

Love the work, love the detail. Things out of place are always compelling. Fish out of water.

Tess Kincaid said...

Lovely! Glad to be of inspiration today...

Stickup Artist said...

Excellent contemplative writing to accompany these delicious photos! It is so endearingly human to attach so many of our aspirations, emotions, dreams, and personal tragedies to the movements and moods of the sea and the debris left behind on her shores...

Scott said...

One of the things I really looked for on my recent trip to New England was just what you've found here. I didn't have as good of luck as you. Nice shots all around.

mythopolis said...

There's something so plaintive, even heartaching, about a boat belly up on the beach. Wonderful photos and reflections, Owen.

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Your wash of words against weathered wood,their ebb and flow on sand and mud, call to mind the distinctive delivery of NZ poet Sam Hunt. Just when I should be booking a flight out of Paris I am drawn by the smell of your photographs, and notice that 8, a mate to the 1 in the Coal Breaker.

louciao said...

Would you mind terribly if I didn't talk but just sat and sipped my coffee while drinking in these tones and textures and sea-soaked sighs that you have served up here like a steaming plate of fresh-cooked mussels?

Bienvenue chez French Girl in Seattle... said...

Boats? Coffee? I am in! -- Thanks for visiting today, Owen. By the way, tell your jealous cats that I DID post a gorgeous cat picture: It was in the Beret post (October archive)!!! -- So there. Veronique (French Girl in Seattle)

Steve said...

Boats are truly beautiful - one of the most beautiful things that man makes, their curved lines defined by their purpose. Poetry in motion... and poetry even when they're still.

linda said...

Glorious! I love old boats! Your photographs have such a sense of poetry!

Le Journal de Chrys said...

De belles photos de matières (ce sont celles que je préfère de ta série!!!)

Céline said...

Je vais laisser mon esprit divaguer devant tes images qui ne sont pas vagues du tout.
Bon week-end !

Nevine said...

As I love all things in various stages of decay, I love, too, the boats that stop sailing the seas and just rest their haunches by the shore, slowly wasting... turning from lush color to bone white.

The colors are yet lovely and alive, Owen. The dabs of rust are perfectly placed... because they are so by nature. And the "images vagues" bit was just too transporting for words.

Have a lovely weekend, Owen!

Nevine

ρομπερτ said...

Being able to arrive, being welcomed and wanted, what joy it must have been, for the ships and people aboard alike.
What an exclamation mark of and for love, life and hope.



daily athens photo

Lydia said...

Pure poetry, this post.
One thing especially caught my eye: the image just before our cuppa--that one link rusted and beginning to work on the nextandthenext.....

noel said...

beautiful work done on these pics I like them very much

Sar@h said...

Ah ! J'ai toujours du mal quand je vois le voilier échoué ! Pfffttt, c'était juste une béquille à remettre ! Maintenant même à marée haute, il gîte, c'est trop tard. Quel gâchis !

Catherine said...

what wonderful abstract art canvasses they make....

clo said...

Vagues a l’âme et rêveries...des images parfaites Owen pour ce dimanche pluvieux..
Je t'embrasse en passant..c'est le déluge ici...je prend un pti kwa avec plaisir...toute cette flotte..pour sur le bateau reste maintenant le moyen le plus sur pour sortir...:)
Des bisoux..

Robert said...

I like the old boat.

Mary Ann said...

Lovely as always. And when will the book be published?

Owen said...

To one and all who stopped by here, and especially to you good people who left a kind word or two or three, I thank you... your presence here, looking over my shoulder as I tinker away late into the night with these photographs, as my fingers type out whatever comes to mind, your presence and whispers from around the world, are what make doing this worthwhile. One does not, cannot, live nor create in a vacuum... Warmest wishes to all...

Merci à toutes et à tous qui sont passés par ici, en laissant un petit mot, votre présence me rechauffe, c'est pour vous que cela se fait, ces images, ces bouts de textes qui se travaillent tard la nuit, sans vous cela n'aurait pas de sens, donc, simplement, merci...

PS The book will be out shortly, am just waiting for the right editor to call :-)

PPS Et pour ceux qui sont dans le sud de la France, toutes nos pensées sont avec vous, en espérant qu'il n'y ait pas de drame dans vos vies lié à toute cette flotte qui tombe et qui tombe... soyez sec, sain et sauf...

Kate Cullen Fisher said...

Quelles images vagues...mais vraiment, Louciao a raison!

Nathalie said...

Ce pauvre bateau bleu qui a perdu une de ses béquilles m'a bien fait pitié. Est-ce déjà une épave ou juste un accident qu'il faudra vite réparer ? Ces bateaux à quille profonde ne gèrent pas bien les marées s'ils ne sont pas béquillés !

:: Karine :: said...

ah là là comme j'adore tes photos owen adoré ! tu ne peux pas me faire plus plaisir avec ces vieux bateaux et tous ces objets qui rappellent l'océan que j'adore par dessus tout !
un grand grand merci