White Morning


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A white morning, melting..

Kenton, Devon.





New Roads


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 Happy New Year!!


C.E.Rennie 2015

Minus the Bird.


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I tried tinsel, biscuits, and baubles, but pears won.

Getting in early to wish you a wonderful Christmas time,

and such a Happy New Year.

See you round the bend!





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I was excited last weekend to find that my music and photographs were featured on Elsa Mora’s generous and lovely blog, Art is a Way.

I’ve been a huge admirer of Elsa’s work for several years now – her intricate papercut work and other fantastic creations are so inspiring.  I feel really honoured to be listed there!

The first featured image was one that I had kind of put to the back of my mind, and it was nice to be reminded of it. It inspired me to give this small girl a new view..



Winter Branch


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Trying to capture something of a wintery light into this blue..



Ideford Mist






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This is how it felt to me..

(Posted one of these a while back but they were due some editing, and I think I like them better for it..)



Dream Fishing


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Sleep just didn’t want to happen in this wild and windy night tonight, so I distracted myself and made this collage.

Layer upon layer of golden fossilised fish..

(this is taken from a scan of a Mene rhombeus, which, according to Bristol University (take a look at their brilliant cabinet of curiosities), is a beautifully-preserved fossil fish from the famous Monte Bolca (or Pesciara) site, in Verona, Italy, from some 50 million years ago!)




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This is a re-worked image from last year. I had originally thought it worked best in black and white, but I was excited to see what happened to them in colour. Somehow the mood seems intensified to me with the colour remaining, and I like to see that flash of yellow..


© C. Rennie





My Home

is in a thousand things

it is where you are

now, soft asleep

it is

where we lay

years ago, moons ago

when we woke up

at the same time in the morning

facing each others eyes.

Before all this

and still now

it groans in the wind of the hills

and in the aching of lovers lost

and it is in the mourning

and in the living

it is down that street

where the cat fought the fox

it is in your legs


on the line

it is in

the growing of things

from warm soil

from seed, that grows seeds

that fly away

It rests abroad, in other hearts, too,

forgotten, sometimes,

remembered, often.

It is in trees, green and orange

it is in leaves, new and fallen

and yes, it is in the wind

on the grasses

here now

stroking the lines from my face

I have always been

more at home

in the small moments

of everywhere


only in one place

and that,

whilst precarious,

is surely


a comfort.


© C. Rennie 2013

Wish that we..


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© C. Rennie, 2013


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