Refilling the Creative Well
Kanowna at 4 in the afternoon I remember reading somewhere that what you do when you're not writing is just as important as writing. After having spent a few days in the old town of Kalgoorlie, where I grew up, I was reminded again of how rich this place is in story and of the extraordinary quality of the light, especially as the sun goes down. This photo was taken on the outskirts of Kalgoorlie, at the old Kanowna Cemetery. The light is burnt and trees turn copper. It's eerie. I wish I could explain it better. Sounds are few - the 'aaark' caw of a crow and the occassional car speeding by. But mostly it's as quiet as butter. The world feels very still. Another world feels close, one that isn't concerned with Super Pits or gold or any kind of reality we know of. One that you could dream of, if you were brave enough to really let go. Less than 2 hours later the sky is pitch black broken up only by big winking stars (so big you can't tell the difference ...