Stillpoint
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
~T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets: Burnt Norton
Stillpoint No.1
Stillpoint No.2
Stillpoint No.3
Stillpoint No.4
Stillpoint No.5
Stillpoint No.6
Stillpoint No.7
Stillpoint No.8
Stillpoint No.9
Stillpoint No.10
Stillpoint No.11
Stillpoint No.12
Stillpoint No.13
Stillpoint No.14
Stillpoint No.15
Stillpoint No.16
about this project
I was walking through a dry field one January afternoon when I came upon a downed limb of dried, bleached out palm fronds. They were a far cry from the graceful green ones that most of us see swaying in the soft summer breeze.
But they were exquisite, twisting and turning in on themselves, so much energy and movement coming from their stagnant position flat against the stiff winter grass. Yet within that energy, there it was. A still point. A place of rest and peace and inner knowing. Somehow.
Stillpoint explores that sacred place we seek where form and energy reveal a higher place of being. Moving yet still. Interconnected yet separate. Tension and release.
“Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.” T.S.Eliot
the details
digital images printed on archival paper with pigment inks
print sizes vary
to purchase a print, please a message on the Connect page