– we are the moment –
This week has echoed the message of capturing the moment and living in it into my mind. having had 3 hours to prepare food and have a pleasant meal was a formative experience. The people who were there, the weather, the smells, the sounds, the conversations, the laughs— the wrestlers… all of these factors and more are what made this experience unique; we were the artwork. Although I wasn’t part of the cooking process, Nidhi and I decided to make more out of our garnishing roles by decorating the room with warm lights, pretty plants, and mats for the food and drinks (with a fun icebreaker question under everyone’s napkin!).
– revelations from meditations and disassociations –
Seizing the day has revealed to be increasingly important for me recently. I have found myself drifting off in various spots around my house, outside, even while doing things. I sit and look at the waves a lot. Something about them just fully enthrals me and I am hypnotised by their discordant comings and goings. The sound they make, the intensity of the crashing force of the soft sand, the possible chance that the wave will crash into the wall to create an upward geyser-esque explosion, the water retreating slowly while also being absorbed by the sand, the fuzzy, slushy, frothy look of the foam as it’s met by another thunderous slash of water, disrupting the sand it rests upon. The colour of the water is interesting to me as well. Some days it’s murkier than others. I don’t like those days. Although every colour I have seen the water be gives a different personality to the coming waves. Clearer water makes the waves seem more calm, serene; perhaps due to their lightness in hue I associate a sort of cleansing or purifying idea with them. Murky days I find usually have more powerful waves that smack the seafront in a whipping fashion, especially towards the end of the walk towards Constitution Hill. Murky water waves also seem thicker, more powerful, vengeful, tyrannical some days.
What I find fascinating is the sheer contrast between the sky and the force of the sea. Some days the afternoon sky looks like a Constable painting and it is truly breathtaking when paired with the powerful waves pouring themselves onto the beach, sending their rustling howl into the soft nebulous clouds and candy-coloured sky.
– photography from my ‘lost in time’ moments – (some edited, some unedited)
These are my observations from a meditative/dissociative state in which I zone out from all other surroundings. I am never not hearing the waves, even at night I hear them crashing onto the shore, their prolonged low roar bouncing off my window but always heard. This sense of not existing or just drifting across my timeline is what I have chosen to inspire my writing piece. I am still working on the finer details of the story in order to get started, however it is a story about a man or a deity who has the power to skip forwards in time. Always forward, never back. Due to some complication, this power will be stripped from them and they will be forced to endure normal linear time like every being in the 3rd dimension. The short story will feature a small section at the start explaining how the protagonist has come to live on Earth in an unalterable timeline. After this small text to set the context the writing will stylistically take on the form of diary entries written by the protagonist. These entries will be a coping mechanism which are meant to help the protagonist pass the time while they ‘waste away’ in this unending flow of time. I will be writing said entries while mentally in character, looking at the world as an impatient being who wants to skip forward when inconvenienced. I will begin writing very soon! Very excited to write through a lens, perhaps even an erratic style down the line…
…more to come soon…
I found this book by Alice Oswald, Dart, which is a long poem about the River Dart in Devon. It is a collection of conversations she gathered over three years of people who work and liver around the river. Like the river, the poem starts on Dartmoor, and ends at Dartmouth, in the sea. People introduced along the way include “at least one mythical figure (“Jan Coo: his name means So-and-So of the Woods”), a naturalist, a fisherman and bailiff, dead tin miners, a forester, a water nymph, a canoeist, town boys, a swimmer, a water extractor, a dairy worker, a sewage worker, a stonewaller, a boat builder, a poacher, an oyster gatherer, a ferryman, a naval cadet, a river pilot and finally a seal watcher”.
…whooshhhhhhh…
This post has a very relaxed feel to it Matthew, meditative, un- pressured, a sense of release, no more fighting with yourself perhaps!?. And the writing will come to you when you let go into this creative zone. The audio of the sea is beautiful, mesmeric, repetitive, full of life and force and just ‘being’, being what it is, i feel a big ahhhhhhhhhh in this post!