Congratulations to our winners! 2007 winners are listed below; you can also see winners from 2006 and 2003.
When studying in a country where a constructed veneer for the benefit of tourists glosses over authenticity, you begin to search for the little details that hint at the truth. While visiting Kylemore Abbey in the heart of Connemara I was certainly awed by the beauty of the neo-gothic architecture, the view over the lake, the sheep wandering the grounds. But it was a potting shed, hardly significant in the back corner of the walled Victorian garden that gave me the impression that this place is truly loved by those who tend to it.
The main beauty of Venice is that there are always unknown corners and unseen canals. The larger ones, especially the Grand Canal, are amazing, but the smaller ones which are on the sidelines truly capture the background of the city-sill waters, reflections, crumbling bricks and sculptures, and small plants. All of the lines of the buildings are a bit off kilter, but that is what gives the city its charm. The activity of the busier areas give the feel of the place, but only in the silence of the smaller canals can you really observe the city itself.
This photo was taken in my homeland in the Austrian Alps, where I spent a few days with friends at a cabin in the mountains this New Year’s Eve. When I was walking around and thinking about having to leave my friends in 10 days to go to the UWA for half a year, I found this rare flower, a gentian, blooming on a green spot surrounded by snow. The strength of that little flower cheered me up and gave me a great deal of courage.
Our group visited the Blarney Castle early in the morning, before it was warm enough for the fog to clear and the dew to melt. After climbing to the top, and kissing the Blarney Stone, I took this picture looking over the side. That morning, glancing out on the grounds beyond, this place truly seemed untouched, which is a race site to witness.
This photo taken from Santiago Island captures the essence of the Galapagos: the enchanting mix of land, water, life, and the peace and mystery of the natural world.
Voices swarming
through this single melody
in my mind.
The lines of Raindrops glide
across the threshold
of molding time.
Foreign voices, places, noises
cutting
biting
interrupting
blinding
buzzing
disorientating,
Abroad.
Unique as the Coffee beans
sacrificed for
my caffeine needs.
I wanted to spread my wings
but now I feel nauseated
not daring to even breathe.
Eyes searching -
not finding:
a knowing face,
smiling eyes or -
a comforting word
in a swarm of
arse
bullox
fuck.
Like a barefoot child
in a cold, black.
peat field.
I shiver from my
turbulent silence.
Folding-up -
I cower.
Hoping - Not knowing
Acid turning - burning
My heart - yearning
My veins - popping
Cappuccinoing
Java City beside -
my Wulapalooza.
Irish oblivious to -
Oregonian - where?
Galway wet ignores -
my silly quips.
This -
my first day of classes
Ignorant,
Yank,
Trying
Always lost
Awkward,
Minuteness.
Surrounded by all
Alone in 15,000.
