Ned Hayes's Blog, page 102
May 10, 2014
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Magical...
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Magical Miniature Worlds By Matthew Albanese
Matthew Albanese creates small-scale meticulously detailed models of outdoor scenes and landscapes using everyday, simple, mundane materials and transform them into an image through the lens of his camera making them look hyper-realistic.
These are insane!
"Spring grew into summer, and the rhythm of my life now included...
"Spring grew into summer, and the rhythm of my life now included Nell. I learned that her secret thyme and mint beds were deep in the woods, out by the chuckling stream that disappeared underground. She gathered plants she needed every day, and she was as a child who gathers flowers in May."
May 9, 2014
“Far below lies the deeping combe with our village in the heart...
“Far below lies the deeping combe with our village in the heart of it. The distant village seems a child’s plaything that I can hold in my own hand. A great fallen yew with nurslings jutting evergreen from its broken body lies near our path. This is the very place at which I first saw the village ten years ago. The line of trees here on the ridge is unchanged, as if I came here only yesterday. I waited in the quiet vale of Duns far too long.”
— from the novel SINFUL FOLK
May 8, 2014
"Read, read, read. Read everything — trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like..."
Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.”
- William Faulkner (via bookishleaves)
“The day wanes until the sun is caught once more in the net of...
“The day wanes until the sun is caught once more in the net of the darkening sky. I struggle ahead of the cart now, into the tracks. I pretend the wind covers his words, that I cannot hear him. Ice cuts through the canvas rags on my feet, but still my curiosity compels me. I pretend to stumble, and I fall to the ground so my face is close to the trail. I will find the truth.”
— from the novel Sinful Folk
May 7, 2014
"The sound of a distant ocean covers me with surf, that tide...
"The sound of a distant ocean covers me with surf, that tide that bears me back eternally into the past, back to the place where I was born. My mother took me out in our little fishing boat, out on the open water of the sea. The thrum and hiss of surf upon the shore behind us, the breaking rhythm never ceasing. My mother waited until we were out of sight of land…. Now, people come through the whiteness towards me, but all of them are ghosts."
May 6, 2014
“I can see her now. On the day we take the forest path to the...
“I can see her now. On the day we take the forest path to the deep stream beside the alder copse. There a plover calls in the deep woodsy stillness, and then a pair of martins dart across the over-grown path. Through the trees can be seen the thick and fast-moving line of flowing water, a steep bank beneath our feet and flowering at the edge of the water, the purple loosestrife and meadowsweet of spring.”
— from the newly best-selling novel SINFUL FOLK
