Dreamscape

I often find myself daydreaming…

…that state where you’re drifting along, lost in thoughts and quiet serenity. Nature provides these dreamscapes for that very purpose I think. Beautiful moments that require nothing but a beating heart and a love of all things peaceful. We are told that daydreaming is worthless but it isn’t. Daydreaming gives pause to life’s pursuits. Without it we would be nothing but garden tools forever digging in the dirt.

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The flower

The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.

 

Hello, goodbye

While a lot of people were gearing up to celebrate the coming of the new year and sending off the old, already tired 2017, I went for a walk to practice taking night shots with my camera.  I had the opportunity to take photos of people and fireworks, couples in hand, families and strollers with neon lights flashing as I live close to New Plymouth’s Pukekura Park and its annual Festival of the Lights. But instead, what stood out was a building in a school I happened to walk through. I liked how old and solid it looked and I felt it conveyed something that would last well past the celebrations that were taking place a few hundred meters from where I was standing. That feeling gave me more assurance that any flashing lights ever would. It made me think the year ahead with all its hidden twists and turns could be met, just like this picture with serenity and quietness.

Wild West

This man is missing his horse. And his cattle. In modern terms that translates to a job and a car. I want to write something that honors something good he’s done, even though I don’t know anything about him. I didn’t want to call him homeless because of the negative connotations attached to it (useless, loser, druggie) so I chose to see him as a cowboy instead, down on his luck.

Sadly this man needs more than a home.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/94992193/imprisoning-the-ill-are-nz-prisons-becoming-defacto-mental-health-units

Muck and moodswings

 

I like this image. It reminds me of moods I’ve had, all dark and dismal. It has a convenient hole I can crawl in and out of to escape from this terrifying world. It really is the underside of having something nice.  The thing that no one talks about but its right under your feet. It’s not glamour nor is it golden, but it exists and performs dutifully – without any fuss or bother. And its needed. Perhaps that’s why I like it.

It’s a picture of me.