Tuesday, June 28, 2011

A long way.

June 28, Littleton.

Much ado about the hundred-mile-long drive this morning, horrid Boston traffic it would be, and it wasn't much more than a highway that wouldn't end with no more traffic than any.
Oh well, no complaints.
But the way our brain work, the anticipation, hearing Sara leave at four in the morning it seemed, then Casey and Nikki, not being able to go back to sleep, really, for worrying, relieved when the phone rang at five for me to get up and make coffee. So much for trying to take things in the present, my brain in overdrive most of the time whether I like it or not, and I don't, especially when it comes time to make a picture from the heart, not the mind, the loosening of all the learned filters between eyes and heart, or is it that old worn word, soul, impediments on the way to seeing, the loosening of all the defenses, taking in the world as it comes rather than as we think it, stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking.
A long way it was, and is, indeed.

4 comments:

Rose said...

Its so hard to live in the moment sometimes. To not think of what was, or could be. To just be.

We have to understand. We have to be ready. We have to take care of whatever may come our way, and prevent those things that have been in our way, before.

...and we have to do it for the ones we care about, because we want to take care of them.

I think you do a good job of seeing. This as things are as well as they may be. Your photos and your words, prove that.

I think that those who are creative are more aware of what can be. I think that anxiety is sometimes a symptom of someone who cares. Something that comes along with a soul with good eyesight and a good heart.

Both things you have.

Valérie Berta Torales said...

As always a pleasure to read your comments.
It is so hard to find that place of utter non-consciousness and freedom in seeing and feeling, but so much worth trying.

Anonymous said...

Traveling in areas like that always make me appreciate the heartland.

Valérie Berta Torales said...

Ah, those straight empty roads stretching into the morning... Yes, I got a new appreciation of the Midwest and its quiet beauty in recent years, thanks to the Kelly Miller route also, no doubt.