Creation, Melodies and other things that make your heart flutter...

Rui stoking the fire.

Moving car, landscape shot. I quite like landscape. There is a certain nuance to a moving landscape photo that is composed haphazardly yet somehow captures quite well the grand scale of things.

Taihape jaunt. On our way to Auckland from Wellington after Chris' (pictured here) 21st.

There is something about Pylons in the country that captures my mind. The somewhat contrasting way in which the landscape and the Pylons interact, I find aesthetically pleasing.

Coffee with friends. Another creative attempt.

Who else would I want to be?

I often find myself preoccupied with uneducated self directed pondering that often, but not always, leads nowhere.

Regardless of the example, how does what I ponder change anything if I don't act on it? Like, the idea of being in a relationship is great, right. Long walks on the beach, dinner by candle light, a picnic under a tree. All great stuff!

But where is it, that the idea takes hold wraps itself around your every waking thought that the only possible conclusion, outcome, action, is to take action. To make the first move. To put in place the series of events that realise your mindless meanderings.

It's not often that I'm gripped by the intensity of an idea. Those moments are holy. Perhaps I'm unworthy?

Oh, but there are times! When my unnecessary self loathing, pitiful, melancholic dreariness is taken aback. I'm then left with keys to that mystical, mysterious, messy moment of clarity. I'd be listening to a song. The lyric, the melody, the voice catapults you beyond the confines of merely consuming the music, beyond just being a member of the audience, but propelled forward, inward, outward. The idea has taken root. Take action. Move first.

Reflecting on all of this. I think this happens more often than I think. I'm propelled forward, inward, outward, more times than I'm aware of. Somehow and in some way, I'm always better for it.

It's real crazy how these moments often occur, for me, out of a struggle. Creativity is funny like that.

Your back is up against a wall, your fears and lies have your shoulders pinned right back. You struggle to break free. You're cynical, dark and self loathing. You could either; fight back, but the burden is only heavier; give up, but you only get pushed harder. Or, you could face them, you could look them in the eye, you could even step to the side and let push right on through the wall.

I'm often reminded by a melody, a friends smile, a lyrical inflection, a baby crying. That what MIGHT happen is not as important as what IS happening. There's so much to get preoccupied by that I often miss how BEAUTIFUL it is to be present NOW. The STRUGGLE is about taking back your time, taking back NOW. Too often I plan ahead, what just needs to be enjoyed. I forget that who I am, is good enough for NOW and because of that I am able to BE.

In all of my messiness, incongruently reverberating towards old habits, thoughts, fears, I can be OK with who I am.

Who else would I want be?

Possibly, finally... but, probably not...

If you have read any of my last few posts, you'll know that I have been searching/ looking/ thinking about what it is that drives those who find themselves on the margins with some sort of influence to madness.

Although my persuasion is toward reconciling it all with Jesus. I don't want to get ahead of the discovery, the possibility of being persuaded otherwise. A risk yes, but if as I'm persuaded to let you know that my current state of thinking would lead me to believe that all truth is pursued long enough leads to Jesus.

So, if that is true there is no risk in this pursuit...

But who knows what will happen, right? Like if I'm wrong, there goes my entire worldview.... anyway.

The main reason I'm exploring burnout and activism. Yes! I just realised, that's what I'm talking about. Hmm.

Thank you and good night.

The view from my window, once upon a time.

At the moment I hardly ever look our my room window, except when I open it. There's nothing to look at, except a damp brown fence gathering moss in the shadow of the house. My room is down stairs and at the back of the house.

The last two rooms I've had have both been at the back of the house as well. Actually come to think of it the one before those two was at the back as well. This picture is from the lounge of the flat I stayed in two rooms ago. It had just rained, early June. Winter had just arrived, but it her arrival was not abrupt. We got to eased into it.

I quite like this photo. For one, I can't remember how I edited it, but it looks good. The colours, the light, the winter morning sunshine after the rain.

I liked the view from my window, once upon a time.

Tolstoy.

Just getting my teeth (and eyes) into some Leo Tolstoy. How much land does a Man need? and Other Stories. It's looks like a collection of some of his short stories, most of which revolve around every day Russian life and also the daily grind of the Russian soldiers.

His work was originally written in Russian. Which I didn't put much emphasis on when I read, War and Peace. In essence the English and Russian stories are the same. But I can't help but feel that something is missing. It's cliche, but what the heck, something is lost in translation. Especially when literary proficiency is paramount in terms of honouring the writers style etc...

But my respect for the author's literary prowess does not run that deep. I will most likely never be able to read or write in Russian.

And on that note I'll say good night!

Exist.

I tend to wonder what all my musings add up to. Like, in the greater scheme of things, how much do MY thoughts matter? The only conclusion I can come up with is, that its for my own SANITY.

I'm continually chasing the answer to what it means to EXIST.I'm not sure what this means. Probably another age old stab at, "What is the meaning of life?"

Hmm...

Not much success there it seems. I say there's been no success because if someone found it, they probably would have told others, and if it was true there'd be a whole lot more people content with their lives... But, then again I might be painting with the wrong brush.

Let me try again...

Who is to say that Hunter S. Thompson's (HST) dope induced lifestyle, was not an example of existence? To exist is to have actual being. There is definitely a difference between those who DO and those who persist to BE. Despite his eccentricities HST persisted to BE in a way that upheld justice, especially when the law was misused to bring the innocent down. That might be somewhat of a 'fluffy' description of HST, but it is evident in his writing and what he stood for. Despite his dope habits HST persisted to BE.

I'm also drawn to the examples of Martin Luther King, Jr., Mother Theresa and Nelson Mandela. I like it how Jack Kerouac puts it, "Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion." Somehow whenever I think of these people, I get this kind of impression. They have somehow transcended all trends and fads and popular opinion. They EXIST beyond the need for their identities to be defined by those parameters that make up popular culture.

Hmm... Perhaps...

I should probably read some Kierkegaard and Dostoyevsky and get back to you...

From way back...

I took these photos about a year ago. These are actually the first ones I took that got me into photography and film. There is definitely something about capturing a moment that continues to propel me into finding ways to express something creative. Creativity for creativity's sake I have no dream to become a famous or well known photographer or even to do it professionally, the same goes for film. I'm just really in love with the process of expressing something.