The Path
Every choice is the death of all other possibilities.
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On listening to Shostakovich Symphony No.11 (The Year 1905).
The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…
Memory
It begins where it ends…in nothingness. A nightmare born from deepest fears, coming to me unguarded…whispering images unlocked from time and distance. A soul unbound – touched by others but never held. On a course charted by some unseen hand. The journey ahead promising no more than my past reflecting back upon me. Until at…
To thine own self be true
‘To thine own self be true’ Polonius, Act 1 Scene 3, Hamlet
It has its costs
Learning to see the puzzle in everything – they are everywhere. Once to you start looking it’s impossible to stop. It just so happens, people and all the deceits and delusions that inform everything they do tend to be the most fascinating puzzles of all – of course they don’t always appreciate be seen as…
Touching the void
Everything around us, this day to day existence, stops us from being who we really are.
Imagine two realities
Imagine two realities intertwined but at one time separate. Everything that’s possible happening simultaneously but happening in an illogical order.