you are mistaken, dear friend - it is not loneliness to be in such a space, where solitude might be relievedly embraced it is not lost when the venturing writes a trail to rediscovered peace © Sarah Whiteley


Some broken things, in the right light, still shine. And in a perfect wind, the fragmentary might fly. But mostly we forget this and gather too closely the sharp edges to our chest - seeking solace in those pieces that are left.

otherwise occupied

I've discovered a trail between the indented kiss of your right clavicle and the contour of your chest that invites the dusty curl of light from between Sunday morning blinds - it begs to be photographed, but always my hands are otherwise occupied © Sarah Whiteley