Our Solar System

Faith

So I was thinking about faith, its power – the clarity of heart and soul today by the sea. I was fixated in the moment by this woman and her expression of faith.

The Seeker & The Sea

Stuart Higginson wrote this poem inspired by this photo. Thank you Stuart.

Where white steeds
sauntered in the shadow of the shore,
one’s eyes were open opals –
his soul in search of more
than the promises … pledges
and words that went before.

Surely the sun sailed away,
and dusk draped darkness
over the pattern of day,
darning a deepening indigo dream
as a scattering of stars
stitched their sequins to the skyline’s seam.

Weary from wandering a wintry
wilderness of wonders and of woes,
he questioned the curious calm
and the paths his spirit once chose.
Stood there in solitary silence,
he witnessed the waves’ ebbs and flows.

Forsaking the city’s bright lights,
manmade sights
and the street-fights
that drew the drunkards from their drinks to war,
his mind became an open door
through which a thousand thoughts could come and go.

Acknowledging not all is man’s to know,
he sowed his secrets in the shallow snow,
trusting truth alone would see them grow
new reasons from gnarled riddles of the mind,
and the hope each human heart must find
as another year falls out of time.

Recently

To Remember

I am thinking that to remember is a curse. To accumulate is a curse. If snow falls and settles and builds upon a roof, the roof might collapse and ruin a beautiful house. As a civilisation, we cling to memories, we cherish stories – they embolden us, they express us, they give us an identity. We share them with others, we smile, we cry and all along this journey we feel closer to one another because of it. But with every memory there is a feeling of nostalgia – even if it is spoken with joy – even if that memory emboldens us to strive for similar or better things. We feel that the current day, the current situation is mastered by repetition of the past, which is often mixed with the essence of something slightly different from today – but ultimately this is an illusion, it is a recycled form of that which we deem safe, suitable, acceptable, something that makes sense to us.

We thrive on making sense of things. We see new things with old eyes. We dress the new with old clothes, that are too small to fit comfortably on the new things, and as such we experience pains: growing pains? We are scared, we resist, we retreat to fantasy and downgrading our experience to resemble that which was. But how can what is be what was? Yesterday is destined to be forever inaccessible, just as barren as the notion of grasping tomorrow. What joy is there in the past? How can anything survive in this ghost space but nostalgia? How can nostalgia not age us, make our bones age… make us forget the simple magic of life. How can nostalgia stop us from forgetting to laugh, to smile and to be light hearted and open-minded to the potential of everything this new moment brings. If with it, there is fear of loss – fear of having to feel pain in remembering what was, and what can never be again.

So what do we do? Do we burn our photos, throw away our possessions and value nothing other than this very moment, the sun is the sky, the lovers in our beds and the friends and family that warm up a space we call a home? Of course we don’t. This too is a form of fear. Being blind to what was is just as bad as making a home of the past, denying what is. I believe this trick is being able to live in peace, in acceptance of turning a switch on and off to desiring… (correct word?) these things. To lose a lover is not a dagger in the heart. To be laughed at is not a dagger in the heart. As soon as we fear change we fear life. As soon as we fear life, life ceases to be. We drown in the misery of repetition, of tradition, of banal routine with a false lover, unsatisfying friends, unsatisfying jobs and life endeavors.

Change is the only certainty of life. Nothing stays still. There is the illusion of stasis through our misunderstanding of the material world, and there is an even greater illusion of stasis in the world of human existence. There, the wicked, the ones who radiate love, the hurt and everybody else – they find ways to create false gods in hope of certainty. What is certainty? Certainty is in the peace of knowing that tomorrow your lover will be by your side – next month and next year, their side of the bed will remain warm with their unconditional loving presence. But what environment can certainty exist and thrive in? Stasis. Is stasis desirable? Is it our human nature to settle and repeat? How can stasis ever be a favourable option for anybody when it is a popular opinion that most people do not know what they want, even when they say they do?

I see around me, so many illusions. My own, other people’s. Why do they exist? Because people need a story. They need a protector, they need an ethereal embrace or a physical one when their faith makes them shiver out of coldness and fear. And so we look at a photo and we feel tormented. I am no stranger to this. I have perpetuated and breathed life into some ghosts, and in doing so, what have I achieved? I have robbed myself of living now. I have delayed my dreams. I have denied that happiness is possible every day and most of the time. I recently considered the following: why do I feel guilty that I feel happy most days and most of the time now? Why did I ask myself this? As I used to be in a very dark and lost place. Depression was my reality, and it was my only reality. I used to believe that feeling negative about many things was the normal way to live, where life would “treat you” to moments of bliss or joy – which were fleeting and temporary moments to enjoy, savour… and ultimately – they were moments that would torment. Looking at past photos (which you probably took at the time in a vain and desperate attempt to freeze that moment forever – for you to crawl into that space in your mind whenever you wished to do so).

So I say this. It is incredibly scary to live each day with a clean slate. It’s incredibly difficult to accept people and things that are different from you, that threaten the pride you have in an identity you have to come to warm to. Now, nobody is perfect. In fact, due to a clashing of egos, the guy annoys me sometimes (a lot less than he used to). But, my friend Pavlos Dimitrakos is somebody I truly admire, and feel like I can learn a lot from. It’s not by his words, his looks or his clothes. But it’s by the way he lives. He might not get on his knees and praise the sun, the trees or some guy he calls Lord – but in the simple way that he actually lives, being so open to new opportunities, experiences and people – it’s admirable. As you grow older, it seems that you become more reluctant to be open to new things and new people who are different to you, or different to the friendship groups you’ve grown accustomed to having.

We lose some joy in our life as we fail to be excited and feel a majestic presence of a greater force, within or externally to us. We fail to feel a peace and joy from watching rain drops on a train window, guessing which drops will fall and join with another drop – creating a new path to the bottom of the window – a new destiny. It’s such a gracious and beautiful way in which nature reflects our very being. Sometimes we stay still, sometimes we run, sometimes other drops change the course of our path… sometimes we run dry and become smaller, more spread out. Sometimes we grow… but all the drops are destined for the bottom of the window. And surely, when the sun comes all the drops, regardless of where they were – are destined to cease to exist entirely.

Today it has snowed. And I love it when it snows. I suppose, when we speak of passion, as it is passion, it’s maybe an Achilles Heel of mine that I get so ecstatic over the album Vespertine by Björk. I walked to town today to meet Simon and I felt so amazing. It was magical. I traveled through the snow, I appreciated the beautiful structure of each snow flake that fell to be forgotten as fast as it came into existence – there to be remembered. Now I speak of an Achilles Heel, what do I mean? If I wait for it to snow – and when it snows I come out expecting it to be perfect, listening to Vespertine, expecting to feel awesome – surely I am too conscious of wanting to force that emotional experience – too conscious to really FEEL it and be AWARE of my surroundings to truly experience it. So, what do I probably do? Rob myself of the experience, or feel disappointed as I fail to feel that amazing feeling I EXPECTED. And there we have it. We construct these realities, we have these memories we hold close to our heart. And their absence torments us. It blows a cool breeze on our hearts that slowly but surely has its impact. We fail to feel the joy from simple moments. We fail to speak to a homeless person because our past experiences tell us they are not worthwhile and they are beneath us. We rob ourselves of living. Having said this, I didn’t feel the need to take 1000 photos of the snow today, I put the camera away when I got excited and just simply watched the snow. When I stopped thinking about the snow, I started to enjoy it. I started to run around and grin like a kid who had a mischievous thought of throwing a snowball at some stranger and running away. And I did. I returned home to find the girls made a snow penis in the snow (like in the first year of university) and I laughed. I went outside and when the other girls were too cold to stay outside anymore, Natassa and I made snowballs out of the remaining snow and we threw them at strangers walking along the path outside our home, and we hid then and laughed quietly.

And so I say this. You know when you are alive when you are like a child. You expect nothing, you explore nooks and crannies (even if you feel there’s nothing exciting there), you say something silly and do not consider there being a RISK of embarrassment. You fall over and don’t think how falling over will hurt your ass and make you walk funny to university tomorrow. All of these thoughts, these risks and references to the past rob us of joy, they rob us of enjoying the snow like children. They make us stay inside and feel bored staring at the TV screen, aimlessly wondering whether a wank will help you overcome the void of boredom.

I wish to share a song of mine which I love listening to because of the ethereal, electric, snowy and beautiful feeling I get listening to it. Also I wish to share a few photos of today, which I probably won’t look at for a while now (cause the memory is good enough – which I don’t really feel the need to reference too much beyond feeling excited about today). See, we can’t escape the structure of our thoughts. And that is entirely okay. There is nothing to be ashamed about, however we are. If something matters, and we want to live that way, we will do it. If we don’t, then it’s a shame but it’s the way it is. No need to dress in black.

Here are the lyrics to an amazing song from my favourite Björk album, Vespertine:

Björk – Vespertine

Treading
The glacier head
Looking hard for
Moments of shine
From twilight
To twilight
Ahhhhh…
Utter mundane

Aurora
Goddess sparkle
Shoot me
Beyond this suffer
The need
Is great
Aurora
Ahhhh…
Utter mundane

Aurora
Goddess sparkle
A mountain shade
Suggests your shape
I tumbled down
On my knees
Fill the mouth
With snow
The way it melts
I wish
To melt
Into you
Aurora
Ahhh…
Utter mundane

Spark the sun off
Spark the sun off
Spark the sun off
Spark the sun off me

A Few Phone Photos

a tunnel

And in brief moments, where I choose to turn left or right, shards of light drift left and right, overlapping and then returning to their place of origin.

I open my eyes and realise I wasn’t where I thought I was.

I stand and smile.

 

Some photos of recent:

Living Language

It’s the first bit of interesting graffiti I’ve seen at uni for a while – and the guy was getting rid of it. Shame shame.

Also, recently, other than having an Enya phase, I’ve been listening to “Brael / Tokyo Bloodworm”. Really good stuff, especially the track “Morning Of The World” that I can’t get out of my head.

This is a song from their album “Living Language” I can’t stop listening to: Brael / Tokyo Bloodworm – Seed.

This Joy

I’ve been ill, I’ve been doing bits… so silence on the blog. Oh well, here’s a taster of some new photos.

Model: my dad.

Winter Graces Our Rooms With A Mild Coldness

Halloween at my house, dressed as a priest with the plague. Father Friendly at your service. Come to him for cleansing of your sins, or your Ford Focus cars. £5 a go (for the lucky few that got to him 6 months ago before the Credit Crunch got nasty, that would have been a very generous and Christian £3 fee).

And now, at Tangent O’ Clock:  an E-Mail from someone today:

” Nah, I know exactly what you mean. To be honest I wanted to say “make the most of this time at Uni before life and work distracts you” but I thought that would sound patronising and cliched. All the people that I’ve known who think like that (it’s just a piece of paper, live to work) and wanted to avoid the drudgery, seem to have all just given in. The older I get the less people seem to walk their own talk. It often feels like I’m the one who is stood left behind saying “I thought we all didn’t wanna go there” whilst everyone else has walked on ahead. I wonder if I’m just immature or desperately trying to stick to my beliefs.

It’s not even that anyone notices. Other people say, “I’m this” and “I’m that” and everyone thinks: yeah they are because they said so (I’m so alternative, I believe this and that) but they don’t actually live by it. If you do live to your beliefs then people look down on you as if you’re stupid. I probably am and they are probably just being realistic thinking “this is the world I have to work with” but I can’t help feeling that they are wrong. I guess I’m the loser at the end of the day because in all honesty I don’t have a better way, I’m still trying to figure that out and so I live life in a constant state of dissatisfaction.

I’m OK don’t get me wrong. Either you’re not a whack job or we both are. I’m just frustrated. The perfect analogy for it all is whenever I manage to persuade some mates to go out for a drink and I say throughout the night lets not end up in Voodoo Lounge and sure enough come 3 O’ Clock I find myself making people like me a bit less by moaning about how we are now sat drinking watered down pints watching loads of 15 year old kids running around excited because it’s all so new to them, and no-one seems bothered but me.

It’s like I don’t have a voice or don’t even exist at all which might as well be true if I’m gonna live like that or this or whatever!!!!! Sorry I’m not even sure what I’m ranting about anymore!!! As Josh Rouse once sang, “it’s not that I don’t want to, I’m just afraid to fail” well I tried and am failing and I’m the only one who cares about that. Everyone else just sees failure! “

I just pressed next on my playlist of my entire music library and Papa M came up (a favourite artist of the above quoted). Heh, fancy that. And finally, a few photos of getting ready for Halloween at my house. Two photos are repeated below, uh oh, error.