To Wander

I cannot control any longer

I’m letting my heart write the rest

If I be so brave to wander

I choose to dismantle my nest


       Reality is but a perspective.

       Truth encompasses the whole. 


– Nicole Alina



Dirt roads, tyres…

Blue and beige landscape fires

Ignited by the sun.


Gentle grey backs of the Andes

Pay vigil along the journey

Crowds of rocks and grass plants gather

Seemingly still and innocent

Yet most certainly conspiring.


Clumps of “Ichu” abound

The “Puña” grasslands confound…


Once the peaks here were islands

Surrounded by higher lakes

When the earth’s climate was cooler –

Fossils and shorelines speak of their fate.

– Nicole Alina

The Sailor’s Cat

The Sailor’s cat was always there,

Awaiting boats –

His peaceful stare.


Ruminating on a Sailor’s life,

Desiring travel,

But also a wife.


He thought a bit about the pros

Of sailing on “The Bloody Rose”

Through stormy seas

And blustery breeze

To conquer lands

And bring disease


But then he had a sudden change of heart

The sunshine spoke to him in part

Of staying home inside the port

To watch more boats without more thought

Because in truth sometimes its best

To dream a dream from your own nest

The land afar will tempt you so

But you will hold to what you know.


– Nicole Alina

Photo Location: Xorto Village, Pelion, Magnesia, Greece.













Living in a pastime, I follow the teetering ladies in heels; an expression of a femininity not fully formed.

It is only with age, the aging earth, that we come to our senses. Noticing a dual articulation of the same thing thereby pronouncing a whole.

Embedded in each human, every plant, every tree, every animal, every natural landscape is a pattern.

It produces a unique energetic vibration

that corresponds to everything in its field.

Be candid with me universe.

I only seek the light in all its myriad forms.

I watched the river at night without blinking.

A friend showed me how to alter my perception.

First the reflection

of light in the ripples of running water

lifts like gold dust off the surface

forming clusters of dancing particles.

Next, you begin to see fishes and eels swimming in the dark cracks between the dust.

Men swim breaststroke in the sea fleeing a sinking ship.

Chaos and death give birth to mother Mary nurturing a round baby.

Shapes come and go like concrete but vague schizophrenic visuals aggressively imprinting on the mind.

It is all that is close to my heart, that has endured an ancestral voyage for centuries BC.

Symbols of snakes, men with arrows, tortoises with homes on their backs like over-lander nomadic hippies in the 60s.

-Nicole Alina

Photo Location: Xorto Village, Pelion, Magnesia, Greece.