Monthly Archives: April 2017

111. Solid and Liquid (Juxtaposition 11)


Reflected or real, which state is the true one? It is sometimes hard to say. And then there is water, which defies categorisation, being the source of life, the place we began, the stuff to crawl out of and run back to, splashing our own 97% into the shoreline. Creatures of change, the ripples feel more like home, the waving image a better reflection, perhaps, than the solidity of glass or the eternity of plastic.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

110. Spots and Stripes (Juxtaposition 10)


Some of us pool our tears, some of us let them streak our faces. Either way, we cannot sit forever in our letting go. Next to each other, circles and lines call out one another’s foolishness, and at the same time speak of every form there is, if they work together. Marking our flocks, like Jacob’s mischief, we collect all the patterned fleeces and leave the plain ones, looking for richer stock and a fuller, more textured life.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

109. Staying and Leaving (Juxtaposition 9)

staying and leaving

The difference in this photo is between the petals who are still holding on, and those which have chosen to let go. Falling is sometimes the way forward, if we can only see it, and summon up the courage to drop into unseen hands. Other times, we need to stand, and our overcoming happens by our firmness in not allowing ourselves to be moved. Seasons are everything in the wisdom of this. Just ask a tree.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

108. Nature and Civilization (Juxtaposition 8)


The ivy is slow, but the glass and upvc is slower. Glass, I have read, is slowly sinking down, like raindrops caught within a sheet of ice. But it will be many decades before it is noticeably thicker at the bottom than at the top. Ivy creeps and sticks, and greens its way across the landscape.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

107. Life and Death (Juxtaposition 7)


Wabi sabi, the Japanese call it when we see beauty in the ugly, or life within death – essentially beauty within imperfection. Put the two things together and they can often seem like two halves of a whole. Both are present, both are necessary. The death of a caterpillar is the birth of a butterfly, after all.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

106. Sharp and Soft (Juxtaposition 6)


I often wonder if the beauty of a rose would be quite so beautiful, or seem so soft and serene, if it were not next to sharp and solid thorns, capable of tearing and wounding. The difference between the flower and its protectors is brought into even closer focus by their nearness to one another. Would a rose, by any smoother stem, smell as sweet?

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

105. Outside and Inside (Juxtaposition 5)


Trapped inside by this illness, I have found my inner world far larger than I could ever have imagined. Sometimes though, stepping out into the world, even into our tiny back garden, the size of “outside” is overwhelming. The sky, particularly, which enables us to envisage freedom wherever we are, is mind-blowingly huge. Feeling now the same way about the vastness of creativity and universe of love and prayer inside of myself, there is some comfort in the smallness of the inside of my house, my bedroom (where I spend 99% of my time) and even of my body, in its reassuring constant confines of size and shape. We are creatures of cell and shell, in lots of ways, and need that boundary between inner and outer worlds.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

104. Hard and Soft (Juxtaposition 4)


A small blue thing, as Suzanne Vega might sing, sits in my hand, stony against flesh. One is tappable solidity, the other pliable softness. But which is more fragile?

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” (Ezekiel 36:26 NIV)

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

103. Light and Shadow (Juxtaposition 3)


Light and its absence create a powerful striping across any subject. How different we look and sometimes feel in the brightness, as opposed to the dark. We long, don’t we, for the cool of shade when we are hot or blinded by the sun, and conversely, for the warmth and comfort of the sunlight, during dull grey days.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017

102. Hard and Soft (Juxtaposition 2)

Grass, daffodils, concrete (juxtaposition)

The grass is greener on the other side when it is next to concrete. How much more alive are the thriving, viriditas, sap-filled spears, than the conveniently flat and dour manmade surface next to them! I love to walk barefoot on the grass, it makes me feel connected to the earth. Concrete feels harsh and either too hot or too cold. Surprisingly, left to their own devices, it would be the grass that would overthrow its oh too solid neighbour.

text and photo © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017