and Some Inspiration
Above is a compilation of some snapshots taken on my travels during the past five years. These photographs were taken of various places in Montana (Rocky Mountains), Spain (Camino de Santiago, Cordoba, Granada, Alicante, Tabarca and Altea), Italy (Cinque Terre and Rome), Wales (Conway Castle), Portugal (Algarve) and England (Manchester, Chester and Surrey). Each of my experiences while visiting these beautiful places have served as the inspiration behind some of my music and especially my poetry.
“I am not who I am without the fragments of my past
Once left behind, made still and unchanged.
My past has bestowed upon me
A culmination of imprints
Misshapen fragments, still, unmoved.
Light upon darkness pronouncing textures of a fragmented globe
From which only I perceive, light upon darkness,
I, that which has been drawn from a past once in motion, set in stone.
Where to be still,
There she remains, unmoved, her true identity,
Possessed by stillness, set in stone, pronounced by light.”
Mysterious wooded darkness, submit to the stars, all your wisdom,
The life within you.
Soldiers of the earth, reflecting seemingly ever-luminous gaze of distant Eyes, still.
Casting shears of light through an eternal, nebulous sky.
Time ages earth. Change is witnessed by the silence of night’s sky, Concealing secrecy.
Sleeping soldiers, sleeping stones, upon dust,
The presence of light, absence of darkness, beyond the depth, a translucent surface.
Dwelling panoply of stars, gleaming eyes of opaque skies illuminating oceans’ waters, surfacing abyss consumed by the absence of light.
Age old eyes, bearing witness,
A distant journey of history born of time and set in stone,
Beneath light exposed, bearing the life of a past once in motion.
The river carves through valleys, separating rock, shaping mountains.
In time, surfaces of dust,
Earth does not know time changes him, suffusing life.
The soldiers mounting above the thin layers of dust do not know it,
By which the rock is changing, receiving the same breath of life to persevere.
Eyes open, where time is witnessed by silence, where mystery is understood by light.
How? ...Can I pretend to imagine, or perceive, or even understand...as I am?
Even within me the vaguest means by which I can ever come to truly understand, only, - as I am? As I live, breathing, in time, a witness through faded eyes, merely a vague spirit am I... or rather... blind I am.
I must start again. Where am I now? I am, simply - to struggle, to fight, to breathe, to hurt, to lust, to cry, to love, to listen, to know, see.....experience....is this to be? What I am, is simply to be? ...but while still,
blind I am.
Then, I must start again. If what I am is simply to be, then what I am is by struggle, by fighting and by hurting, and by lusting, and by loving, and by breathing, and by listening, and by knowing, I see...when experience is to be, straying from my own mere blindness as I come to be....
to myself and into being.
I live a life the future has already seen and the future knows my past.
As I live my life, the past is forever indifferent to my future and yet my future unfolds with concern for my motionless past, already set in stone. The undetermined becomes etched into the frame of time through passing moments that culminate, transforming my furture into the present and then molding it as my past...and time prospers. What once was my future, a way paved with dark tunnels and shady passages, unguided. Terrified, while every step forward is the first step ever taken, through the very brief yet everpassing present as time possesses the very vivid essence of its oneness in its entirety.