It's 3:52 am. I am still awake. Why? I don't know. It's a lurking feeling.. the one that creeps up on you in the middle of the work day and all you can do is stand paralyzed thinking, "this is not where I am supposed to be." And then realizing that feeling isn't really the paralyzer... it's the realization that there is no where else right now, and you are here. So be here. And then what else is there to do, but sit in your underwear and eat cereal, stretch, breathe, and go to sleep hoping that you don't wake up with an impending sense of doom in a few hours. Sometimes life takes you in strange places. I'm there. I think I feel stifled and idle... I need to create something.
a chair. a boy. a barn.
I had the most beautiful weekend in the cat skills, visiting rush on the farm and exploring life there. It was so nice to be in a community of sustainable, aware, progressive people, even just for a weekend. I've never realized what a gift of the universe it was to grow up on a small family farm.
Anyway, many more pictures to come.
I was lucky enough to take a quick trip to New Paltz to visit Peter and Lee weekend before last... I needed to hide in that little cabin in the woods for a moment. It was one of the times when the universe lines up in a strange series of events and you're left with your head spinning, simply knowing that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
It's funny to me that I tried to take a picture to capture something about the moments I experienced touching the bark on a tree and allowing cold water in a stream to run over my hand.. To feel the tree, truly feel it, hold it, listen to silence with it, breathe upon it, was to experience it. not a photograph. And as for the water... to photograph water is to strip it of its being, more than almost anything else I can think of... to stop its fluidity and flow. I catch myself sometimes, trying to hold on to something by taking a picture of it. Can you truly be in a moment- feel it- be it, if you are taking a picture of it? Sometimes it feels like a silly human desperation to hold on to something before it inevitably changes.
I made friends with this salamander and then its baby.
peace. When we arrived at the lake, the fog made it impossible to see the other side. It was swallowed into a cloud, but we could still hear the voices of the families on the other side, laughing, shouting into the haze...
we thought there was a big storm heading our way...
that's always one of my favorite feelings- just before the storm. I always find it hard to describe the feeling of the moment when the air changes, all particles charged... It always reminds me of what little control we have as humans, although we enjoy thinking differently.
The grass shudders. Mice run in the fields. The barn creeks. I shudder.