a picture of nothing is a piece of everything

sometimes in the late afternoon with kortney (my niece) and mally, while walking, i took out my camera and snapped a picture of nothing,

mally noticed this and asked, what did you take a picture of?



i liked what the banner said, i explained. it says that every step tells a story and this is very true. usually i would whip out the sidekick and type a reminder or at least, dig into the purse and find a sarasa to jot it down. in this walk, the only thing i brought was my camera and some cash folded in the back pocket of my jeans. so, sweet mally, the camera was whipped out to remind me of what is felt deeply in the steps of our walk. i dont want to forget.

"every step tells a story"

(statue of paul revere and the horse in their midnight run)

being in boston makes the statement literal but for me it also meant something else. i remember years ago, i read a book which had a character do some innervision of himself. he sat for hours out in the night trying to find an answer to the question that was presented to him. finally, it hit him and he went into the gas station to his boss.

"i know what it is! there are no ordinary moments."

this happened while i was curled up in my driver's seat and rooted for him to reach that moment of realisation. even though i knew it was something he needed to reach into, i was still blown away at the simplicity of the truth behind these words.

you see. there are no ordinary moments and no ordinary lives.

how can there be? every single second, and in between, life happens. it never stops. the world, as i know it, does begin and ends with me but i don't even forget for one second that it also begins and ends with you.

with each and every one of you.

ah...

the hour here is late, but if i was in the west coast, the night has only begun. somewhere else, the sun is greeting the lands and someone is waking up with a knowing smile or an aching heart. when i take in the magnitude of everyone and every single living thing being the way they are in every single moment of "now" my breathing becomes shallow and my heart quickens. its, for the lack of better word, breathtaking to realise this...

onto something lighter, maybe.


this is a statue of st. francis of assisi, he is known for his connection with nature. he also always reminds me that if i had been born with a thing between my legs, i would have been a joseph and clare, a francis. whoo, one simple difference makes a whole another story. :)

before i end this, there is a poem i have been carrying within and it fits my mood.

"to the dust of the road"

And in the morning you are up again
with the way leading through you for a while
longer if the wind is motionless when
the cars reach where the asphalt ends a mile
or so below the main road and the wave
you rise into is different every time
and you are one with it until you have
made your way up to the top of your climb
and brightened in that moment of that day
and then you turn as when you rose before
in fire or wind from the ends of the earth
to pause here and you seem to drift away
on into nothing to lie down once more
until another breath brings you to birth.

- w.s. merwin

love and light to all