Thursday, September 18, 2014


Recently I took a series of photographs of things red. I have no idea why i did it. My eye was drawn to it all and over the course of afternoon, these are some of the images I came away with.
I hope you enjoy!

                                                   'Red #12 (2014).'

                                           'Red #13 (2014).'

                                                   'Red #20 (2014).'

                                                   'Red #28 (2014).  (for Mr Goldsztein)'

                                         'Interiors #171'

                                                  'Red #180 (2014).'

                                                  'Red #190 (2014).'

All photographs copyright matthew schiavello 2014.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Why I love you (parts i-iii).

Why I love you (parts i-iii).


When we first met,
my love was like
something gaudy,
well... gaudy for you.

It was like
a brightly coloured
floral bouquet

and dare I add,
always bursting forth.
Those moments when it did,
you would always turn
to look over your shoulder
to see who else bore witness.

And each time, you took those flowers quickly.
Almost as if, you didn't want others to see.
One corner of your mouth would turn and sneer,
the other raised in a smile.

That’s why I love you,
You’re as tough as nails                                 
But you’re not.


You’d tear others down in a heartbeat,
Tear them down so bad,
they couldn’t be re-built,
But never me.
In my darkest days,
You lifted me up into the light.

'One day', I thought, 'I hope you'll let others in,
To see the real you'.
But for now, I’m guiltily glad,
I’m the only one.

You’re as tough as all hell,
But you’re not.
I always knew it
but saw it most,
when I had to leave
and that's why I love you.


All those years away, 
you said,
never made you love me less.
Except you didn’t use the word love,
you never do
But you were there for me
And that’s the same thing.

We never talk about what happened,
But if we wanted to, we could.

I would also tell you
that the memory of you
Got me through
that terrible time.

And though you never visited,
You were there
Waiting for me
when I was finally able to return.
You stood at the front of that cursed place
Smiled and hugged me tight.
We kissed like it had been forever.
I said I love you and a tear slipped out.
I smelt of institutions.
You didn’t look over your shoulder that day,
You just held me tighter.

I remember thinking
how I wished that everyone who talked you down
could see you now
and maybe they would finally understand
why I’ve always loved you
(and why I always will).

copyright matthew schiavello 2013