Dreamscape: Poetry, Paintings, and Writing.
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Moments
There are always those split seconds When time stands still and mysteries Come into being. No-one can deny or undo precious Memories or pictures that became Stamped to the inside of the mind. Every man or woman carries This sweet burden Whether they try to diminish or forget That, which was. Kneeling together on a…
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Otello and Desdemona
Pencil on Paper © HMH, 1995
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Catching up with my Reviews
It’s been too long since I published a new batch of reviews. I suppose life caught me unaware: I thought I’d done more than I did. Now, in 2019, it could be an important New Year’s pledge to remember that posts don’t multiply on their own. It doesn’t even help to write reviews and publish…
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Winter Solstice
Dark mornings Twilit chill The countryside bleak with silhouette trees Snow falls Moods drop And sunshine falls off with the tilt of the earth Bleak are the days as the midwinter reigns Humans need symbols and signs to survive Lighting a candle Or pleading for warmth Opposes the fear that lie deep in our souls…
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Who’s Afraid?
Acrylic on Cardboard © HMH, 2000
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Tim Taylor invited me to share my thoughts on writing, music, painting, cooking, and — last but not least — my publishing journey.
Welcome, Hanne! December 12, 2018 ~ T E Taylor Today I am pleased to host a visit from Danish author Hanne Holten. Welcome, Hanne. Would you like to tell us about your novel, Snares and Delusions? First, I want to thank you for this opportunity, Tim. Should I give a brief idea of the plot?…
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Getting the Blues
Mr McHeath, the would-be rock-star, Plays his bass and scorns the black ‘dots’ Travels abroad to practise the riffs But fate disappoints him: His chords go amiss. Later, back home he takes up his career. His band plays small gigs Mainly heard by his friends, His drinking companions, A rock-chick or two But day-jobs give…
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The Snow Queen
Black pencil on paper © HMH, 1987
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Modern V. Old-fashioned Writers’ Methods
Some people believe that writers of old were more accomplished — and wiser — because they wrote by hand. In their opinion, modern authors lack flair because of using PCs. Even worse is it that these ‘modernists’ connect via the internet: such lovers of the quill believe that indie authors spend so much time dallying…
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Halloween
Abandoned house of cobwebs Haunted and old. Walk past, Quicken your pace In the dead of the night What happened here? Who can tell? Sighs embrace the unwary And whisper dread secrets Once every year A glow appears Behind broken windows Wispy forms glimmer In the moonlight And invite you…
Got any book recommendations?