“Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma. There it is before you, smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, insipid, or savage, and always mute with an air of whispering, ‘Come and find out’.”
~ Joseph Conrad
The perspiration burning my eyes and rolling in tiny rivulets down my back seems to bother me little. And the view in front of me justifies the 19 hour flight which began my journey to this small, remote beach facing westward from an island into endless seas beneath a glorious sunset. I’ve yet to find the ends of this earth, or so I presume. But I hope and trust what I discover there instills in me the tranquility and peace I’m feeling as I perch in the sand, observing the endless changes in color as the sun steadily slips behind the horizon.
Frustration can be a deceiving beast of burden. This past year I’ve essentially put most of life – at least that which I was previously acquainted with – into a quintessential holding pattern. And any transition, regardless of it’s pace or magnitude is, at some level, an uncomfortable undertaking. However, as I once read by an author who’s name I’ve long since forgotten, it is the highs and lows of life which remind us we are alive. Everything in between is just filler, time which summarizes material we scarcely, if ever remember. Besides, every new experience presents us an opportunity to explore that which we would otherwise remain sheltered from.
Time has been clipping along at a frantic pace this year, and the prospects for slowing things down have so far appeared, well, essentially nullified. I’ve recently begun to dream of a time, randomly swirling somewhere in the cosmos of the not-so-distant future, when a dearth of activity would reawaken the sleeping deans of boredom. Continue reading Random Pix ~ Time Reflecting on the YV→
I found myself engaging in advice giving this afternoon. It’s not an activity I frequently indulge in, being hesitant to consider most of us adequately prepared or in a position to provide advice while struggling with unresolved matters of our own. I’m not suggesting we ignore the pleas for guidance or direction, particularly from those most in need of information that may alter a lifestyle precariously balanced on the thin line seperating success or failure. Nevertheless, prior to assuming the role as advisor, we should humble ourselves with a dose of reality gleaned from an honest cursory review of our own successes and short-comings.
“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” ~ Bob Marley
It’s unfortunate – I think – that we are often the masters of our own deception, subconsciously yet nevertheless willingly crafting our own undoing. And I suppose it’s understandable, after having experienced a series of uncomfortable events in unfamiliar territory, that I would retreat back into my survival instinct, immediately canvassing my options for opportunities to escape. Having few options available, I dug in and raised the walls, deciding that I’ll wait it out by keeping my area of reconnaissance to a minimum. And just like that, I nearly forfeited one of the best nights we would experience during the entire journey to this little island in the Caribbean.
I spent some time playing around with the new Lumix GH3 and 12-35 f/2.8.
Sometimes we unexpectedly arrive at the proverbial fork in the road, far from certain of which direction to take. We stammer, scratch our heads, spend time thinking. We then begin processing calculated guesses or, defaulting to that much less elegant or dignified methodology, simply gamble and choose to roll the dice, hoping our indecision lands us on the right side of the mark.
I arrived at my crossroads several months ago. After a few hours this evening into a follow-up on my new direction, I’m thinking this is going to work out just fine.
All the best to you during the holiday season, and with whatever path you’ve chosen in life.
So I captured a few shots at Rick’s Café in Negril, Jamaica. Yes, the sunsets are a few clicks beyond amazing. So is diving from cliffs into emerald water so clear that attempting to explain it, well, just sounds cliché. And to compare this all-too-well-known establishment to other areas of Jamaica doesn’t do the island true justice. You see, Rick’s is not a representative sample of the country as a whole, but is instead the epitome of ‘tourist trap.’ This became all too evident as the crowds rolled in by the dozens in the count down which preceded a most spectacular Caribbean sunset.
It was the sound that first drew me in, entirely different and unique from anything else I would hear that day. I was attending a heritage festival not far from my home this past weekend, wanting to find a distraction from the normal routine, to shift the paradigm, to quell rumblings of the mundane. And though I wasn’t entirely successful, what I did confirm is that it’s time to distance myself from the comfort of what I’ve come to consider normal. I’m not complaining. It’s a good problem to have.
“It was a weird, beautiful little dream of a country caught between its regional ways and the giant monoculture that was beginning to swallow it whole.”
~ Todd VanDerWerff, A.V. Club
Not so long ago, I was shuffling around the yard taking care of tasks I’d been wanting to get behind me. Suffering from what I self-diagnose as infrequent-but-spontaneous obsessive compulsive disorder, I was on a mission to conquer several over-due projects that had mysteriously remained unfinished. Returning to the garage, I attempted to balance my tool belt atop a shifting collection of discarded parts and gear laying scattered across my toolbox. But it wasn’t so much the balancing act that presented my challenge, it was the steady distraction of thoughts, images and experiences from an earlier weekend stuck in a pattern of continuous replay. It was a reminder that if we are willing to pay attention, life often affords us an opportunity to experience something we at first may not understand, and that only time and innate curiosity will sustain through to the point of understanding.
This past Fall we spent an afternoon walking between Venice and Santa Monica Beach. If you’ve never been I recommend it. My sweetheart was taking care of business in Southern California and I was doing research on the 60’s rock band The Doors, who, coincidentally, can trace their beginnings to this exact area. The atmosphere is certainly conducive to creativity.