Saturday, 7 January 2017

The White Radiance of Winter Project

From The White Radiance of Winter Project...

The colour that glanced and glowed in the heart of the hills of dream,
The light that dazzled and drew in the year that is on the wane.
The song with the moan of the wind and the whirr of the moorland steam,
they are still in a realm unreached, so we turn to the quest again.

Bring us new hopes, New Year; kindle fresh pharos-fires,
But whatsoever thou bring this boon of thy grace afford,
That in twelve moons' time we may still be afar from our dream-desires;
For never the thing attained is the thing we have toiled toward.

Not found poet...

Monday, 23 May 2016

Or From That Sea Of Time

Samedi à l'Île d'Orléans

OR, from that Sea of Time,
Spray, blown by the wind--a double winrow-drift of weeds and shells;
(O little shells, so curious-convolute! so limpid-cold and voiceless!
Yet will you not, to the tympans of temples held,
Murmurs and echoes still bring up--Eternity's music, faint and far,
Wafted inland, sent from Atlantica's rim--strains for the Soul of the
Whisper'd reverberations--chords for the ear of the West, joyously
Your tidings old, yet ever new and untranslatable;)
Infinitessimals out of my life, and many a life,
(For not my life and years alone I give--all, all I give;)
These thoughts and Songs--waifs from the deep--here, cast high and
Wash'd on America's shores.

Currents of starting a Continent new,
Overtures sent to the solid out of the liquid,
Fusion of ocean and land--tender and pensive waves,
(Not safe and peaceful only--waves rous'd and ominous too.
Out of the depths, the storm's abysms--Who knows whence? Death's
Raging over the vast, with many a broken spar and tatter'd sail.)

Walt Whitman, Or From That Sea Of Time

Sunday, 15 May 2016

Beresford Hammond Hume album ‘The Lightning Bell’

New release coming soon. The Beresford Hammond Hume album ‘The Lightning Bell’ will be officially released this June. It contains 8 tracks of improvisations recorded last year. They are joined on this record by Judie Tzuke which really adds to its heady mix. The glorious images for the sleeve have been supplied by Gaëna (da Sylva) and it will be available through the 52nd. It can be pre-order at the moment via the Bandcamp site:

Sunday, 24 April 2016

The Black Herbarium

Soon, images and books availlable...

The Black Herbarium ✿ L'herbier noir
Garden of images | Jardin d'images
Black and white fine art photographs
Copyright © 2016 Gaëna da Sylva

The 52nd

Sunday, 17 January 2016

And yet the books will be there on the shelves

And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings,
That appeared once, still wet
As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn,
And, touched, coddled, began to live
In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up,
Tribes on the march, planets in motion.
“We are,” they said, even as their pages
Were being torn out, or a buzzing flame
Licked away their letters. So much more durable
Than we are, whose frail warmth
Cools down with memory, disperses, perishes.
I imagine the earth when I am no more:
Nothing happens, no loss, it's still a strange pageant,
Women's dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley.
Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born,
Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.

Czeslaw Milosz

(Dans ma bibliothèque, des livres anciens et les fleurs de L'herbier noir... )

Saturday, 17 October 2015

The Science of Snow | The Jazz Man

The wintry beauty of the music on “The Science of Snow” is enhanced by the atmospheric black and white images by the Canadian photographer Gaena da Sylva from Quebec who collaborates with Beresford under the generic name the52nd (as in parallel). See

Nice review for the Beresford Hammond ‘Science of Snow’ CD by Ian Mann, The Jazz Man. Here...

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Confessions of the Green Armchair | New images

Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by                                    Thou art a dreaming thing,
singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording                                  A fever of thyself.
of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a                                    
John Keats