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Returning to the unimagined
The time of breathtaking vulnerability
Lost connections
The maybe lakes
Where you are
Mandalas for the blues
The unclear way forward
Transitional landscapes
Notes from the edge of nowhere
Before there were words
Tales from a non-existent land
From destruction grows a garden of the soul
A geography of connection and loss
New work
News
Contact
About
Books
Exhibitions and publications
Menu
J. M. Golding
Photography
Home
Returning to the unimagined
The time of breathtaking vulnerability
Lost connections
The maybe lakes
Where you are
Mandalas for the blues
The unclear way forward
Transitional landscapes
Notes from the edge of nowhere
Before there were words
Tales from a non-existent land
From destruction grows a garden of the soul
A geography of connection and loss
New work
News
Contact
About
Books
Exhibitions and publications
Crossing the distance
The shadow of tomorrow
On an uncertain threshold
To see the other in the self
In the heart of the dream
At this moment in the journey
A secret wind
To hold an apparition
Here the lost souls
The key to the intangible
Contact leaves these traces
The land of always
This moment always
In the garden of stars
So many things we don't have to say
Everywhere is here
One path and another
This garden, this crucible
In a realm of knowing
From darkness we find each other
Light drift
Communicada
Unexpected echoes
It would be morning for us both
Despite destruction
At a primordial edge
Memory traces
Here the lost souls
To hold an apparition
Crossing the distance
The shadow of tomorrow
On an uncertain threshold
To see the other in the self
In the heart of the dream
At this moment in the journey
A secret wind
To hold an apparition
Here the lost souls
The key to the intangible
Contact leaves these traces
The land of always
This moment always
In the garden of stars
So many things we don't have to say
Everywhere is here
One path and another
This garden, this crucible
In a realm of knowing
From darkness we find each other
Light drift
Communicada
Unexpected echoes
It would be morning for us both
Despite destruction
At a primordial edge
Memory traces
Here the lost souls
To hold an apparition
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