18 Sep 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

09/18 Paris, France


Sometimes when I take photographs I place more value on where I am standing than what I am looking at.  In Rouen I stood where Monet stood.  I preferred the light and shade of a subject, the dark spaces that define its character and capture the surroundings of the moment, revealing its alternations.  That evening’s twilight was a symphony colored in grey and rose that I watched as I waited for the sun to set. (more…)

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18 Sep 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 061 Scepter and crown


Scepter and crown, come tumble down, now it rises from the underground. Can you hear the music?

Beauty in this world, she lies, hidden in its home, there once, then gone again, with the wind she roams

An echoing song, like the leaves dance with the wind, I’ve seen them, pass in silence, or stand and watch again

I have seen it, grow and die there, in these places where it’s free, a walk, along the subway, I can still hear it’s melody

It’s an easy way to get there, in and out again, yet me, like lots of others, who wander to its end

Beauty in this world, she lies, hidden in its home, there once, then gone again, with the wind she roams

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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