Life is like sand through the fingers; the more you try and hold on, the more it slips away from you. Curious how we Humans seem to take forever to learn a lesson, and only after enduring the pain of being do we begin to learn. It seems as if it's impossible to hold onto … Continue reading Sand.
This is how we were meant to live. We were meant to frolic about, amongst the tall-grass, among the trees, in alignment with the wind, the wind that flows between the knees. We are Human, creatures of exploration, novelty and social connection. We are not a science, but an art; living, breathing, loving. We are … Continue reading Humans of the trees.
A house built upon wet concrete, can you imagine? Inherent perturbation exists within these walls, can't you tell the everything is askew? Unstable foundations providing tentative support; unfixed, provisional, temporary. I know what I need to do; it's time.
Each day I wrestle with the tidal wave within; the wave that rocks me to-and-fro, attempting to capsize. Today my vessel has sprung a slow-leak, I sit and gaze upon the tide that gently wades through; today is the day that the tide has come through. What is one supposed to do with a singular … Continue reading tidal.
Too often do we try and force a square through a circular hole; it is within our nature to bend the world to our will. The writer who tries to force words from his fingers, the teacher who tries to force undivided attention from the pupil with ADHD, the lover who tries to force the … Continue reading gentle.
Forces pull me, they pull me along, along this long road of life. From town to town I travel; destination unknown. Why is that I choose to participate in such a journey? A journey in which I feel as if I have no choice; a journey of causal determinism. A predetermined fate to forever chase … Continue reading The forever chase.
There’s something so fickle about a feeling; ever fleeting, one moment it’s there, another gone. I am an adventurer, exploring foreign lands, exploring foreign planes, searching. A curious searching, one different to all those prior. A search akin to what an eye subconsciously seeks in the lazy space of a painting. This search, like all … Continue reading forty-two thousand feet.