pieces of ria

There's a strange and wonderfully scary stigma attached to abandoned places. I always imagine what happens in places like these in the witching hours, when no one is awake.. Do creatures roam the hallways? Are their sounds to be heard? What will happen if you should sit there, and wait? Freaky, extremely freaky. Lovely pictures, nonetheless. Make sure to visit " La Valdor ", Frankenstein's Hospital... Click here for the Abandoned Places website Rob Dobi is a photographer that caught another collection of New England Ruins on camera. Not really that scary, but if you use your imagination, it could take you anywhere... Click here to visit his website

So I've decided to post my short story on my blog, since it's been posted on 2 other blogs!! The Owlhouse newsletter now comes in the form a blog. They have translated my story into Afrikaans (well done, Arno!) and it's been published here: Uilhuis Stigting Blog Owlhouse Foundation Blog The Owlhouse The lazy sun slips its long, late-afternoon fingers around the orange koppies, down, down into the quiet valley of Nieu Bethesda. It brushes over a few lonely sheep, the cork-dry main road, the tips of long forgotten trees. It touches the rooftops of the weathered houses, and filters through the shady spots created by ancient graves at the edge of the village. It bathes the valley in a lush, warm haze and for a moment it waits, before it silently sinks away behind a koppie, leaving the valley to darken. As soon as the twilight comes, she appears from the river. A bowed figure, almost only a shadow, her feet not touching the gravel over which she hurriedly moves. Those who have...

Yes, I'm in love and had a lot of inspiration for writing a loveletter for a writing contest that I've entered a few weeks ago. To my surprise they decided to pick me as one of the 20 finalists.. The recognition is fantastic! Herewith the letter, in my mother tongue, from my heart, and the link where it was published. My Lief As ek lewe in my pen se ink kon blaas, sou ’n vlamrooi voël stadig daaruit fladder tot op die spierwit papier. Sy sou haar amber vlerke oor die skoonwit bladsy sprei soos ’n waaier en skaam met haar kobaltblou-en-groen oë na die wêreld loer, terwyl sy stadig en gemaklik asemhaal met haar pruimpers, ronde bors wat geluidloos op en af beweeg. ’n Warm hart klop daar binne. Sterk. Aanhoudend. So klop my hart vir jou, my lief, soos ’n helderkleurige, wilde, vrye dier. Trots, geheimsinnig, innig gelukkig. Jou hart klop ook, en ek hoop dit klop net vir my. Vir nou, vir môre, vir altyd. Dit klop warm onder my vingers as ek aan jou raak en jy geniet elke oomb...

I've been gone too long, but I'm back.. baring gifts! Some of my favourite images at the moment. Sit back, let your imagination run wild & enjoy....