Thursday 26 May 2016

Try that stream of consciousness thing...

I strongly believe there are very few things we control in life and these would include and may be limited to; ourselves- our behavior, our words and our thoughts.
Some may even argue that this is not the case; that they can't control themselves. It may take a lifetime to learn to control these things the way we'd like to. Still we persist. 
I would say that from these things, our thoughts are where our biggest challenge is found. They say 'actions speak louder than words' and 'death and life are in the power of the tongue'. When we are in the same room and you do something, I can see it, I know it was you. The words you say; whether you own them, whether you mean them or not is really irrelevant. It's done, it's out there and it came from you. These things are a kind of proof. Yet I can't see your thoughts, your motives, your intention...
What point is this bringing us to?
I think part of learning to control your own thought life is to become more aware about how you're thinking. In an effort to understand myself [my thoughts] more I took a pen and made note of thoughts as they came, not dismissing anything. I will share it with you here and I would encourage you to do the same. If we want to be in control of our thoughts we must become more conscious of the way in which we are thinking. 



To give this some context, i was travelling from the Netherlands back to London at the time:


There are gaps in the spiral stairs.
i tried, but i can't sleep.
'kiss and ride' said the sign,
we never kissed.
no one was around so i looked down, 
a little shaky;
still wanting to throw everything i had over the stone wall of the new church.
it didn't make any sense, all spread out that way.
don't leave me alone anymore.
shoe lace and seat-belt undone.
independent. 
i will find my own way to follow you.
is it here?
376 steps, the rest?
i want you to go before me and to stay.
if i had only on choice it would be- stay.
stay.
i can only do any thing with you.
take me where you feel most at home.
i don't remember that feeling.
don't or can't?
can't or won't?
don't cry,
unless it helps-
im talking to myself again now.
i cried in every city.
where is the blood?
where there is blood there is something either living or dying
and why is it red?
they're drawing squares in the sky again.
its means nothing to me.
is it hard to tell the difference?
im ok with that.
all the strangers look, some look like strangers,
others like friends- faces like other faces i know.
we didn't talk about it, i think they're in a hurry.
the chocolate was fair-trade.
i think im learning.
he helped me; i didn't understand the machine,
the coins, the paper,
the smallest coffee in the biggest cup.
sometimes i think im still in love with him.
it didn't taste like melbourne but it didn't matter.
its all green except the blood- christmas colours.
a dying art form.
why the wait?
not to complain, only to wonder...
passing everything
catch your breath, only this is real.
whether its getting better, improving, developing at a pace you'd prefer is irrelevant 
but now, try to know it,
to know yourself in this- now.
no sugar.
blueberries and memories.
last week seems only a distant dream, in this now.
he smiled, he touched my elbow. 

   






Sunday 1 May 2016

the way things fit...

only black outline,
colour me in sweet dreamer.
rugged sky
cherry pie
you laying by my side.
the end has no end
in you and i...
tell me all the beauty you see,
capture my heart as days drift by.
never set it free.
do you know?
do you know me now?
then fall again,
into my arms.

= 35 mm film, mt eden, new zealand =