routinemagic
Profile
“C’est mon plaisir” .... ‘because it pleases me’ is the underlying motivation for every piece of art I make, photograph I take, or thing I pick up.
Trained as a sculptor, I take photographs, paint, pick up random beautiful things, make assemblages, curate exhibitions, make props and costumes, occasionally put my words in public, love texture, and have recently finished writing a Masters dissertation on ‘The artist’s role as collector of memory and self’ .
routinemagic@gmail.com
Groups
routinemagic is a member of ! Inspired Art !, Abstracts from Nature, Almost Famous, Alright, what is it?, Altered Art - Collage and Assemblage, Black and White Photography, Blur, Books, Candid Photography, Colour Me Vibrant Red!, Creative, Talented, and Unknown, Extreme Close-Ups, Fine Arts, Freedom In Words & Art, Kairos, Live Music Photography - 2 per day, Natural Textures, Painters In Modern Times, Recycled, Rusty, Crusty and Falling to Bits - 2 Per 24 Hours, Something To Say, The Art of Pain, The Collector's Corner, The Woman Photographer **7 Submissions a week only please**, Travel and Adventure, Tuesday Afternoon, Unconventional Artistry - 3 per day and What A Shot .
Writing
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Once upon a time, in a far away land, a princess met her prince. They lived happily ever after. / Until the prince fell under a wicked curse and turned himself into a frog while the heartbroken princ…
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deep within the dank warren of dungeon passages he sits outside his door. / runs a hand over the grooves of his carved initials and days. the opened locks lie at her feet -plain, ornate, old and ne…
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She’d lost things before. Found some, too. This was different. The proof of it lay in her soul’s ache. If only she knew a way to tell what she believed. What she knew to be True. …
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She fights to keep her Self from drowning in her desires, from being swallowed whole by her thoughts. Her fear seeps through the cracks, pushes its way in, burning the still-healing cuts, poking th…
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She closes her eyes. / covers her ears. / Breathes. / Lying as still as she can / she traverses the miles / mountains / plains / …
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he papers the the windows that face onto the alley with his words / she knows the hand that holds the pen; the heart that questions and wants still, she reads them quietly. furtively. / longing to…
