Imagekind Gallery Digital

The Wright Brothers

The first free controlled and sustained powered flight by man.

Resurrection

The resurrection of a woman.

You Can Fly

Tinkerbell throwing pixie dust on Peter Pan, Wendy, Michael and John to make them fly.

The Haunting

All houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the door-way, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table than the hosts Invited ; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, As silent as the pictures on the wall. The stranger at my fireside cannot see The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands; Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, and hold in mortmain still their old estates. The spirit-world around this world of sense Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense A vital breath of more ethereal air. Our little lives are kept in equipoise By opposite attractions and desires; The struggle of the instinct that enjoys, And the more noble instinct that aspires. These perturbations, this perpetual jar Of earthly wants and aspirations high, Come from the influence of an unseen star, And undiscovered planet in our sky. And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud Throws o'er the sea a floating bridge of light Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd, Into the real of mystery and night, - So from the world of spirits there descends A bridge of light, connecting it with this, O'er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends, Wander our thoughts across the dark abyss. Haunted Houses By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. (1807-1882)

The Awakening

But when, in June, the pines are whispering low, And when their breath plays with thy bright hair so As some one's fingers once were used to play— That hour when birds leave song, and children pray, Keep the old tryst, sweetheart, and thou shalt know If spirits walk.

Vino

I am beauty and love; I am friendship, the comforter; I am that which forgives and forgets. The Spirit of Wine. W.E. Henley, British writer (1849-1903)

The Grim Reaper

She is the personification of death, cloaked skeleton holding a scythe. To take away your very last breath, pray that she never comes to visit.

Playin' The Blues

Boy playing the blues.

Seeing The Light

Seeing the heavenly light.

The Visit

A surprise visit by Peter Pan one evening.

Bang

Is this the beginning or the end? You decide.

Uh Oh!

The look of a little girl when things go wrong.

Second Star On The Right

Peter Pan Adventure