Tag: Photograph

Water is Life

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He stood on the stage staring out at the crowd, not really engaging them with his eyes. But not ignoring them. Their eyes, of course were fixed on him, which is kinda unbalanced, but come to think of it even in one on one conversations you hardly ever stare into each others eyes for a sustained period of time. It gets a bit intense if you do.

He fiddled with the mic stand, smiled to himself and called out to the bar through the mic.

‘Ligo neraki parakalo’

The bar man fished into the ice cooler and pulled out two bottles of water, handed them to a friend, who walked them to the stage.

The singer smiled, opened the bottle and started to drink, the cheap plastic collapsed in his grasp and the water started to escape down his chin. He ignored the stream, put his lips back to the mic and spoke again.

‘Water is life… Nero enai zoei’

He threw the half empty bottle into the crowd, turned to the band, bounced his head and went at it.

It wasn’t till later that I started to think about it, his gesture didn’t really scream anything in particular, in the moment I was more captured by the comfort he had on stage, but later I thought about water, about plants and food and us and our everyday need for water. Our constant question of what we need to survive, company, love, friendship, laughter, food. Maybe in the simplest form, if you boil it all down, what we need is water. Water is life.

Over the Hill

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I suppose it’s how you keep people in the game, keep them guessing, keep them searching for what’s over the hill, what’s in the field next door. That’s how you keep people.

It’s human nature to want to know more and it’s exciting when you look over at the next thing. But it has to be controlled. You can’t just walk over the hill and see, you have to take a path or a road, then at least we can make sure we were there first. And we know what reaction to expect.

But I tell you as I lost my self in the mids of the brush I found beautiful things that made my heart light. Spaces and insects that made me excited just standing there. Doing nothing, just being still and letting my eye wander over nature, raw, untouched and beautiful. I became that butterfly.

Sticky

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I woke up early, but wanted to sleep more. My body was tired from the walk. I felt like I wanted to go again, to hike up the hill and try hard, but another part of me thought it would be better to rest.

Then the mind started to tick remembering last night and that smile. It was okay, the beers and the laughter, although slowing me down was worth it, just to see her bounce around.

I rolled over to the cold side of the pillow, a little laughter emerged from my heart. I was stuck again, what would come out of this new turn?

Love

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What is love? To hold a hand when no one else will.

To reach out when all has been ignored, to bend to ways long forgotten or to change someone for worse.

To live with all the broken promises, to let the lies be believed. To forget about your misinterpretations, to kneel in front and offer peace.

To let be and not ask questions of the future, to analyse all actions gone, to breathe in new opportunities, let the passion die and move on.

To hold and care when all is broken, to give time and space to change the way. To sing and dance and smile and cuddle or stand back and give grace.

It will never always be the same and old passions twist the mind. But at one moment it is exciting, and love will always be blind.

Words

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Always the same, like emotions, they are just our understanding of physiological responses to our thoughts.

Our body sweats, scared, fatigued, hot… simple. But then you see, the words get all twisted up and used to make people feel a certain way. Words should not push the feeling, feeling should push the word.

Then it all gets kinda complex. Do I feel the feeling because of the words or do I really see the thing and feel the truth. Or my truth at least.

Too many factors, the experiment would have too many variables to make a clear evaluation.

Anyway Paradise.

He laughed to himself.

The Boat

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Let me be… let me be, let me travel from land to sea, why oh why d’you put me here, this land around is full of fear.

The sea is where free energy flows, the water is, all I know.

Let me float with wind and tide, let me escape these humans who have no eyes,

No eyes to see what’s wrong, no freedom to feel their inner song, to shout out loud, to feel their soul, they just dig and dig inside their hole.

But when they realise they are in too deep, the sides to climb are just too steep.

So please release me from this tree and let me feel the water, surround me.

Something to Say

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At first when I saw her she looked fierce, she skilfully navigated her way in and out of the umbrellas with no more or less than a moment for everyone. When we spoke she corrected my Greek with a smile and moved on. But as time passed I noticed a softness behind her steely demeanour and then out of the blue as we passed on the stairs she spoke to me.

‘I saw your van, wooow… It’s amazing’

I blushed a little mind racing to find something interesting to say. ‘Thanks, it’s super simple though…’ thoughts rattled around in my head like a pin ball… was I sure she was talking about my van? Did she see Jan’s van? When? Fuck. ‘I like it, it’s cool, it’s got everything I need, but it’s simple, you know I don’t have a sink or solar… well I have… but…’ What are you saying? Shut up!! I shouted at myself.

‘I am thinking of buying a van’, she rescued me, now I had something to say.

Patience

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After you see the cat with the third eye you know that life is going to be a little different, how you are probably never sure, but for certain there will be a change.

It’s difficult to work out how much to take from the things you have seen, how much the clues from mother nature are of value to your choices, but there has to be something in it. The energy you take from pacha-mamma must affect you in some way, like the sun for plants, for every action there is a re-action, all the cliches.

Difficult to say, but the cat was beautiful that’s for sure and there seemed to be a clarity to the shapes and colours with current thoughts. I suppose you take a little of this and a little of that and hope you have the right balance.

Melissa

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Melissa hurried to the back of the shop, picked up a scrap of paper and placed it in the front pocket of her bag. From the safe door she turned the small key with a red tag three times to the right, withdrew the key and placed it in the same pocket of her bag as the scrap of paper. Her nightly lock-up complete, she then walked out from behind the counter and in-between the rows and rows of DVD’s to the light switch. She looked back into the shop her heart rate increasing, she paused with her hand hovering over the switch looking in and out of the maze. Had she forgotten something? Had her colleague definitely left earlier or was he hiding behind one of the sets of shelves? She dismissed the thought, flicked the switches and the room immediately fell into darkness. She opened the door, stepped outside, out from the warm island created by the heating system above the door and into the cold damp air of winter.

She pulled the door shut and out of her bag took a large set of keys flicking through the set to find the one that fitted the lock. Her hands were stiff and her heart was beating quickly, she found the correct key, raised it to the lock and as she did her fingers faltered and the set dropped to the floor. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but there was no-one who cared, so she bent down and picked them up.