the texture of thoughts

For those who journey into the frontier of expression, who choose to explore that which has its unique roots unto them. Who call into the depths and ask for what is known, they who piece together the familiar texture of thoughts. For those who strive for an overall goal for humanity in reality.

The cracks of light that shine through the unconscious are most important, they come in a variety of messages, some obvious, others have a certain way of reading into.

The will to allude to Mother Ocean and to create light that breaks the waves will be the forefront of all intention, yet some are blind to its will. Grace the reaches far into understanding and smothers ones pride and humility into everything else.

The reality that Mother Ocean has dried up, there are those who have collected their stream with all its inhabitants, they keep it fresh in whatever light they choose, they drag their ship across the desert in the hope that one day, the thirst for life will be quenched, they hope that their journey shall succeed.

Humanity could relinquish their vessels into a fleet and stream into Mother Ocean, her presence could grace herself upon us once again. In this reality, all would flow into one another.

As a child, there was a point where something in my sight changed; I felt I could not see and feel in the same way. The feeling of looking and connecting a sight to a certain texture in my mind vanished. I became strangely anaesthetised and my vessel was empty. I asked all whom I was close to and the answers I received were vague and unfamiliar, I could not explain or find reason to reflect on what I had experienced. I still can’t explain it completely. Now, I must regain my sight. The journey of photographing has shown me that I can call upon visions as proof; this construction of images.

This anaesthesia of the eye, the reason for its cause is based around the misdirection of reality. Those parts of the journey that do not find anything familiar apart from what has been firmly pressed into the conscious; there is disharmony that tends to arise from this subtle form of oppression.

This oppression and disharmony can easily become a joke, the symbols sometimes don’t go together in a way that is familiar yet distant from what is know.

On the importance of the conscious, it is useful to focus on the things that lie in that moment, to understand their personal space, with equal consideredations. There are unconscious patterns in all forms of expression, some weak, others strongly vibrant, all depends on ones perception. After I photographed this, a woman witnessed me photographing what appeared to be rubbish, she invited me into her home where she lives with her mother, her mother showed me something she had created.

Of feeding the mind with vision, one always does so with certain selfishness.

The artist directs the scene with their eyes.

The ego is all encompassing.

If one wishes to express such things, then one can feed from the time spent expressing.

Food from my pocket, the leaf set out to give the birds their familiarity and in return, their familiarity fed me.