Agfa 400 (Singapore 2015) How often do we inflict emotional violence on each other without realising it? A cutting remark. A careless comment. Another curt response. It may not stem from the design to hurt, but each chips away at the receiver when it’s directed with intent. Something is taken away from them, unwillingly. Bit by bit, little acts of cruelty, sculpting a valley of hollow. Empathy led astray without mindfulness, gouging self-esteem in its rage. Advertisements
A combination of Fuji 200 from Jun and I, on Contax T2 & Nikon AF3. The time spent in Ubud could be many things but mostly it was a time of presence. Vivid dusty sun and glowing night outlines; tickle of an invisible stream; full glasses of sweet wine and haze-tinted conversations; fresh meals and choices, laughter, salty anticipation, quiet affirmations, blue blue wonder… Here’s an extract from a communal Google doc (Snorkelling in Nusa Penida): It was first a cloudy dip. I was choking, trying to breathe through the mouthpiece, and remembered that in the water—let go. So I did, and found myself able to breathe, able to see, and we moved through the seaweed farms, through the wooden sticks and over the nets, and then—wonderland. I fear I can’t remember it anymore. A vividly blue starfish Wayan picked up. The waters got clearer, the corals magic. Wayan waved my hand away when I reached towards one of them. He grabbed my hand, I reached for Jun, and we swam with the fishes. Schools of them, mostly small groups …
Some people you can’t wait to tear yourself away from, to recover from the exhaustion of talking, to forget your aching mouth, to rest the muscles of a conscious face and a pinched mindfulness Some people you forget the arrival and departure of, for conversation is as light as air, as easy as clouds floating on a breeze, as simple and truthful as two kindred souls meeting on their ambles
There are often too many thoughts swirling at the same time. Here are some of them:
I find myself feeling sad when I meet someone beautiful. Sometimes, it’s because part of their aching beauty stems from pain. But mostly, I just wish that everyone knew just how beautiful these individuals are. How wonderful their hearts are, tough, wise and kind. Souls honest and true. But perhaps they don’t need the world. Just those few.
the emotion that tells me my heart is working again. (is detachment, therefore a fearful response to that fear?)