Yesterday was the first day in over a year that I didn't pick up or look at a camera. It crossed my mind a thousand time, though. "Oh man, what if I forget to take a picture." What if, indeed. But nothing. No consequences, no guilt, no itching feeling at the end of the night when I know I have mere minutes before my mind turns off.
Just calm.
Just life.
And now, without further ado, it is time for this blog to turn into something real, something far.
Do the short poems also end with this blog post? Do they cease to be necessary? Do they cease to exist anywhere but in my mind?
Or do they exist everywhere but in my mind?
And as long as we're on the subject, what is the mind? Where does it come from? If I roll across the ground, will my mind turn to Jello?
Reaching for the highest branch,
I try to catch the lark.
I see him sitting in the light,
I watch him hide from the dark.
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