Between Summit and SkyJust a quick look at climbing, or perhaps a simplification of it, by what the so called experts say. To be honest though - and many purists will more than agree, they seem to live by the credo – climbing is very simple, anyone can do it. So when I say “experts” I actually just mean those men and women who live for it, those who’ve made this, their passion, also their profession. “Mountains are not Stadiums where I satisfy my ambition to achieve, they are the cathedrals where I practice my religion.” A note on myself: I'm in the midst of several writing (1 designing) projects, so in considering my blog and wanting to put up a post on climbing, words kind of failed me at an inopportune time, but thankfully I'm not the first to arrive at this juncture - not for naught is the saying "I'm speechless" rendered so commonly whilst gazing at the horizon from a mountain summit. It is a space where words are not needed (and sometimes being short of breath is also a contributing factor). It's this silence that resonates loudest in the hearts of all climbers. Hence I've tossed in all these quotes because they say what needs to be said... I do have serious inclinations to take my climbing to new levels (pun intended) and take it more seriously (whether mountaineering or rock climbing), but its about the personal journey, and in short, the philosophy that conveniently stands above all is summed up well enough in the last quote of this post! Hopefully it will inspire you - "Writing about climbing is boring. I would rather go climbing." “For me, the value of a climb is the sum of three inseparable elements, all equally important: aesthetics, history, and ethics. Together they form the whole basis of my concept of alpinism. Some people see no more in climbing mountains than an escape from the harsh realities of modern times. This is not only uninformed but unfair. I don’t deny that there can be an element of escapism in mountaineering, but this should never overshadow its real essence, which is not escape but victory over your own human frailty.” I included the above film because I believe Messner's sentiments (From 36.00' - 39.00') about the invisible paths/lines on the mountains are so true of life. “...seen from above, landscapes are made up of mountains and watercourses. Just as a transparent model of the human body consists of a framework of bone and a network of arteries, the earth's crust is structured in mountain ridges, river, creeks, and gullies.” "The best climber in the world is the one who's having the most fun." [Image Credits: wall.alphacoders.com, alexbuisse.com]
0 Comments
Thanks to Filmmaker and writer/poet David Martinez Romero, I’m privileged to introduce many of you to another talent from Spain, photographer Juan David Cortes. As with any artist, their words inevitably are echoed best and loudest within their body of work, but attached is a brief Q&A to get to know the man behind the camera. What binds us all, is the element of ‘story’, and as the saying goes “a picture says a thousand words”, mainly because every image communicates a different message to each new set of eyes. A common theme among photographers is that their work is simply a perception and interpretation of life, and within this dynamic we find different meanings to lend more resonance to our existence. One could look at it this deeply, or you could peruse the photos just to find something beautiful and interesting, because what would the world be like without these elements and finer details? I chose to display this first image, because I lived it just last week... Enjoy! Q & A with Juan David - [Darkened text are Juan David's words] 1. What model camera do you use/what would you like to use in future? I use several cameras. A digital slr (5D mark II) for assignments and some specific personal work, for all the rest I use film cameras: 35mm reflex Olympus OM-1 and eos 5, 35mm rangefinder Canon 7, and medium format Bronica. I´ve never thought what camera I would like to use, I think each work needs it´s own tools, so one that I feel comfortable with. 2. It's different with every artist, but if there is one, then what is the most striking/vivid/favourite photo you've ever taken? And partnered with that, what is your favourite subject - some photographers, like landscapes, nature, movement...? I can´t choose a favourite photo, every photo has it´s particular mood, moves some feelings and doesn´t move others. I mean that the pictures among my own that strike me today are not the same that will do tomorrow. I like the fact that there´s always some discreet and subtle photos that eventually become “chosen” and some striking and powerful ones that you get eventually tired of. 3. When did you realize you wanted to be a photographer? One day, when I was 23 or 24, watching the photos that a friend has taken in a travel. I felt as if I was watching photos for the first time. Looking at his pictures (Marcos Bauza great and inspiring photographer) I felt something hard to explain, but that could be said that life will be much more interesting with photography in it. Later on, I realised that while I have photography I will never feel alone or meaningless, It provides me a place in the world. Later on I discovered that It´s like living with a highlighter pen used to express your opinion in an metaphoric way, more instinctive and at the same time more open and more accurate. 4. How has photography changed the way you see the world? I don´t think that it has changed my way of seeing the world, beyond that now I pay attention all the time to light and composition, even when I don’t have a camera with me. I think that photography is used from inside to outside, to express more that to see. 5. If you were not a photographer, then what would you be (also, what was your ambition when you were a little boy, since I believe photography could not always have been your passion)? When I was a little boy I wanted to be a sea biologist, I was a sea life freak. When I was six or seven my dad bought me a five-volume sea world encyclopaedia and practically memorized it. As an adult I think I would like to be a carpenter. I think a good phrase is very similar to a good photo... “God is among pots” “It´s not the mountain ahead that wears you out, It´s the pebble in your shoe.” - A Chinese proverb that I first heard from Muhammad Ali. Regarding the photos… I´m not going to pick any [favourites], just tell you that the most personal works in my web are “rhetoric”, “summer is almost gone”, “przewalskii” and “yerma” which is a work in progress... *** [All images are Juan David's and are used by his permission. The captions refer to the name of the respective series'. The one image without a caption is from Tumblr] Muchos Gracias Juan David! - A factional short story - She sat as she usually did at the beginning of one of her more philosophical lectures, with her one thigh resting on the edge of her desk. When she brushed her short dark hair behind her ears, tucking the strands neatly into the arms of her slim spectacles, as she did now, it somehow lured onlookers, in this instance, her students, to sit forward in anticipation. It was her way of readying herself, and us, for what was to come. She interlocked her fingers in her lap and with a vaguely shaky voice, she began. “How hard is it, to believe in the invisible… how hard have we tested our perception of invisibility? An ‘invisible God’, for instance? Why, why is he invisible in the first place? And is the concept of invisibility even believable, I mean, it’s been the subject of many art pieces - films, scientists have actually been working on an actual ‘invisibility cloak’. But can there be any truth to this concept, anything more than fiction? Is it yet another fruitless pursuit of some impossible goal?” She turned her gaze to the open window now. “The more we know, the more we clutter ourselves. Travel to a rural town, experience a slower paced life and it will begin to lend some appreciation, not only for our creature comforts, but also to how simple life can be, or once was. I’ve met people whose only concern, quite literally, amounted to “when was the rain coming?” – that was and still is their main cause of stress. I’ve met farmers who’ve prayed for rain… I started in this manner because I want you to take a mental step back for a moment and think about life differently, to clear the clutter of bills, work, study, even family, from your plate, and let’s just think about life… the roots of it. When it comes down to the essentials, it becomes a matter of perception, because your life is less cluttered, you get to focus on the real things. I think of rural dusty towns because on such outskirts you become most aware of life in general.” She said her two fists together, “You’re conscious of it all the more, and just like that your perspective changes because quite literally, you’re relying more of your five senses to interact with your surroundings. City life often involves things or people jumping out at you, asking for your attention, making a noise, shrouding your vision… assaulting your senses. In remote places, that is removed, and you’re suddenly aware of the sound of your own footsteps, natural smells and aromas of nature, the cleaner air, being able to see to the untouched distance, and after a while you’re perhaps aware of the sound of your own breathing, because it is the only sound punctuating the air. You become fully aware of your own existence because now that everything, family, friends, TV, wifi, noise, is all gone and nothing is begging for your attention, everything around you just is. So your own existence… it feels, strangely “close” because now your senses are required to fetch stimuli from around you." She grabbed fists of air. "What does this have to do with God and invisibility? It’s simple; it’s how we perceive life. How we see this material world before us. Our senses, are our gateway to this world, allowing us to experience it. What we sense, governs what we determine to be invisible or not. The ancient peoples and rural cultures all had a sense of the spiritual, yet city life has diminished that sense by simply droning it out. We’ve become desensitized on a spiritual level. Think about this a moment: Dogs have more powerful olfactory sensors, said to be 1000 times more powerful than ours. So their sense of smell is richer, and broader, detecting odours that we can’t. They’re able to hear certain frequencies that we cannot. Crustaceans, in particular, the Mantis Shrimp, has one of the most elaborate visual systems ever discovered. They’re considered to have the most complex eyes of the animal kingdom. Some species possess 16 different photoreceptor types, of which 12 are for analysing colour. What does this mean? Well we only have 4 visual pigments of which 3 are used for colour perception. The rainbow stems from 3 colours. What this means is that they not only possess a better visual spectrum than we do, but it’s even better than our best technology can offer. It easily outperforms Blu-Ray optical technology. Mantis Shrimps can perceive more colours than we can. Does this mean there are more colours than we know? It makes sense if there are, since most of the light spectrum is not visible to us. What’s certain is that they perceive more than us, including ultraviolet light, and even polarization vision. What is clear to me is that even by studying the material world there’s a whole lot more than meets the eye… or ears and nose - not forgetting taste. So already we know, or are aware of the unknown… sorry to use this once laughed at idiom. But this is the known unknown… So by considering the invisibility of God, specifically addressing people who seem sure that there is no God, or spiritual/supernatural realm, we can already ascertain that even within our humble finite existence, we cannot see all there is to see, or hear all there is to hear… and this is about what we know exists out there. To us, they are known invisible entities. There are definite elements that exist outside our realm of perception. Now, spare another thought for the invisible world of . . . your mind.” Her head cocked to one side, “Wait what? – Yes,” She nodded, looking at our faces, “everything happening inside your mind, your thoughts, your imagination and your dreams. ALL this takes place outside, or apart from the natural material world, and are, by their nature, invisible to others. They are intangible. So already we’ve established 'perceivable' unknowns or invisibilities, and thence indefinable invisibilities. Again, these are invisible elements we know exist. Now think about this: If you’re in an accident, you may lose limbs, have an organ transplant, become paralyzed…" She waited, "the point is, that despite these things, you would still remain who you are, in mind, your personality… the essential things that make you, YOU. And guess what, it’s those invisible things that make us different. I’ve seen a couple of medical cases where patients lost portions of their brain, and though their lives were adversely affected, they still remain essentially who they are as people. So what makes us who we are? This is the existential question, because even through all that I’ve mentioned, there’s still more to us. A relative of mine recently suffered a stroke which has drastically impaired her speech. As a result, she could only enunciate two words: 'Willy boy' – this incidentally is what she used to call her now deceased husband. So of all the words in the two languages that she was able to speak, somehow her brain and mouth 'chose' those words as their default setting as she now learns how to speak again. Is this due to habit, muscle memory, or Love, or all of the above? Either way, its food for thought. We are already more than what we can perceive. Is believing in an “invisible God” really that hard? Ask yourself this: Is your idea of God too ‘provincial’? – The Bible is, well, its like a Vladimir Nabokov quote – ‘not like one wave... and to experience it does not mean you’ve grasped the whole sea. To truly understand it, would mean getting in the boat, going out to open waters until you can’t see land anymore. You then experience the waves that the sea can muster, and in the midst of it, find out what God’s Grace is really about… but still, you would be in the dark as to the teeming life beneath the surface, and the endless undercurrents... Many want to think of God as a simple timekeeper, who wound the universe’s clock, and then let it tick on,” she wafted her hand, “leaving it be, to run its course. But no, when we were created, the first of us, we were created holy, and righteous to stand in God’s presence – it was only Good. So what is Holy? – It means to belong to, or derived from, or associated with - a divine power. Something sacred. Regarded with veneration or specificity. Something reverent. But we disobeyed God, and thence removed ourselves from holiness, from God’s presence, as we descended into sin. And what is Sin? - A condition of estrangement from God, resulting from such disobedience. Romans 14:23 “… and whatever is not from faith is sin” – thus we are born into it, because we are born separated from God – we’re on opposing sides. But this creator of the universe, who sits on his throne in heaven, then stepped off that throne, to be born of a woman, and live amongst us, knowing full well what would happen. He knew he would be killed. But God planned this since our fall in Genesis 3. He planned it perfectly. He chose to dwell among us, to demonstrate his love… and true love is sacrificial – caring not for oneself, but for others. And Sacrifice? - A Relinquishment of something at less than its presumed value. === Imagine you were sentenced to death for a crime you were guilty of - which we all are, in this life - and someone came, and they said they loved you… even though we did not deserve the love, and they said they would take your place,to be executed in your stead. THIS is the type of love God has for us. God didn’t just choose to die, he chose to be beaten, tortured, laid bare and humiliated… reduced to a bleeding chunk of ripped flesh nailed to a wooden cross. - When this was prophesied in the Old Testament, this method of death, and punishment, hadn’t even been invented yet. God not only humbled himself, but Jesus subjected himself to hours of pain for our sake. It would be simple for God to show up and exercise his power, much like the miracles he performed throughout the Bible, with the same universe-creating power, making it obvious to us that he is the one true God, the almighty, brandishing his majesty in a visual feast of splendour and authority, essentially asserting that man choose to follow him, or choose death. But instead, God chose death first, overcame it, and now offers his hand gently, to follow him. God does want obedience, yes, like a father wants from his child, but he doesn’t want to enslave us, or to force us. He cannot make us Love him, because that is not true love. Read the Book properly, and you’ll find that it is in fact a love story, with a hero, fighting for us. The facts are that historians are unanimous. There was a man named Jesus, and he lived, and died, under the rule of Pontias Pilate. The bone of contention is whether or not he rose again. If he did not, then the entire Christian faith is based on a lie. In fact it would then mean that Jesus lied, since he said he would rise again, as it is written in Mark 10:34, Luke 9:22 and Matt 16:21. In fact, the majority of sceptics who studied history and the Bible, to search for evidence, came out of it a Christian. It could be claimed that the ones who were not converted, were never sceptics to begin with, but were rather cynics who presented no evidence to back up their claims that the Bible Story is false. Bertrand Russell admits his take on Jesus was, and I quote 'not concerned with historical facts'. Even outspoken critic Friedrich Nietzsche referred to Jesus as 'the only one true Christian' – whilst the Hindu religious leader Dayanand Saraswati made the wildly ridiculous claim that Jesus is 'a hot-tempered person destitute of knowledge and who behaved like a wild savage' – which he said without producing any evidence. So what we have, is historical evidence, and specifically a first generation of martyrs, who either saw what they claimed to see, or they were lying. All of them could choose to end their suffering, instead they chose to die for their belief. Understand… this is not one man’s testimony, this is the core testimony of Twelve men. Or shall I say thirteen, for after Judas Iscariot killed himself, the Apostles elected Matthias to replace him, and thence there was Apostle Paul. Both of these men died for their faith. So there was twelve apostles who died for their testimony of Jesus. Only Apostle John lived to be an old man, though he endured torture and beatings in his life time. Thus they fulfill Revelations 21:14, where John writes about the names of the Twelve on the twelve foundations of the New Jerusalem. So what does all this have to do with an Invisible God? Simple. These are the signs, the evidence of things unseen. The 'knowns'. Are we to suppose that what we see with our human eyes are all that is there? Let us think about that for a moment. We are claiming that all that our human eyes can see, is the extent of existence. And we do not even know how the human eye works. That is to say we don’t even fully understand the mechanism that allows us to perceive the world around us, and yet we have the audacity to claim “This is all there is”. Primitive men, or people of older times, in rural places, believed in a spiritual realm. It was part of them. Yet modern man has sought to eliminate this aspect of life. Secularism has sought it educate spirituality out of us, to show that it was simply a reflection of the primal uneducated thought patterns. This of course makes the false assumption that you cannot have both spirituality and intellect. And yet, intellects have failed to tear down the Bible. Whether you are an intellect or a simple man, the battle is always in the mind. This is why it is written in Luke 24:45 – “Then he opened their minds so they could understand the scriptures. Our physical bodies are visible, yet that which comprises who we really are, our mannerisms, character, personality and thought patterns… these are all invisible. We live finite lives, yet what we are made of, mentally and spiritually, is not finite. Stepping aside from Jesus Christ for a moment, we can reason that God being 'invisible' as we understand invisibility, is simply because our natural finite human eyes cannot perceive something as vast as a creator of the entire universe. Something so immense cannot fit into this world. Yet he ‘inserted’ himself into his creation a number of times in subtle ways. Moses beheld a burning bush, and as a result he had to wear a veil because his face was glowing due to the encounter he had. Every heavenly encounter in the Bible comes with the words 'DO NOT BE AFRAID'. Because we, as humans, have three principle fears," she held up three fingers which she lowered one at a time as she listed them "the unknown; that which we cannot understand; and lastly, the truth. Spirituality, the supernatural... ticks off all three. ... To believe in God, you need to have an open mind. Class dismissed.” [Image credits: fotocommunity.com, pol-ubeda on flickr.com, imgkid.com]
Check your halo’s, harps and clouds at the door... The truth is that our ideas and imaginings of heaven have always been quite conservative, measured to earthly things and dictated by commercialized media. Or many times heaven is represented as just the best the earth currently has to offer, but surrounded by clouds, which is cool maybe for like, an hour or two, maybe even a day, but what then? It seems a bit empty because many or most people don’t take heaven or the possibility thereof, that seriously. Another truth is that we simply cannot comprehend eternity. So what then for those of us who do take this issue seriously; how do we wrap our minds around it to appropriately adjust our perceptions? Firstly, what have we learned from God in our time here on earth? What notes do we have pertaining to the Almighty's personality, his creative design etc? When looking at the purest things on earth, the purest and most beautiful things this world and life has to offer, what incentive do they provide with a view to the “beyond” in mind? I believe heaven will include all these things, simply amplified in ways unimaginable… but let’s not allow that word unimaginable to get in our way – as we’re encouraged to believe in things unseen… the reason I say that heaven will include these pure things, is simply because they came directly from God. Yes we will worship God, but it won't be like any church service you may or may not have attended. We're meant to worship God in our everyday lives (living sacrifices), so heaven will encompass all the elements that God delights in here on earth. [WARNING: NUDITY AHEAD!] The struggle in this world is to reclaim intimacy with God; to develop our relationship with him. When you look at God’s design of marriage, and the two bodies that make up the union, we learn about God’s romantic and sensual nature (Two elements we need to remind ourselves that he invented – he is literally the God of sex). But looking more objectively - Woman: the crown of all creation, the first of her kind (since there is no gender in heaven due to there being no need for procreation – hence no 70 virgins either by the way) is a most intriguing image of sensuality and beauty. She is yet another picture of a certain side of God. When God made man, he took him through a vast untamed land, a wilderness, before leading him to Eden… So in this way we learn of God’s beauty within the mystery of adventure. Can you imagine what earth looked like in the early days, zero pollution, the air clean and pure, not one impurity in the waters nourishing the vast untamed landscape, teeming with life… it is an invigorating vision. So far we have many basic alluring ingredients all located at the beginning of creation lending some colour and hints into what is to come in the hereafter. We serve a God who is in love with us. He is passionate, he is mighty with a voice loader than thunder… he is a frightening prospect when taking from the images the Bible lends us. Hence C.S. Lewis using the image of a Lion (Aslan) in Narnia in his representation, with little Lucy Pevensie constantly wanting to hug and nestle in his mane, whilst still retaining the knowledge that this is a powerful and untamed beast – fear born out of respect (and what the term “God fearing” entails). And yet we speak of the same God who created sunsets and sunrises, mountainous reflections in lakes, the Aurora Borealis, the human orgasm, an infectious smile, music, dance, rainbows and erupting volcanoes, waterfalls and the entire universe with comets, nebula's and the explosive beauty of a dying star. *** Can we ever know what heaven will be like without ever having been there? Is this why he gave us the ability to have dreams, why we have an imagination… to gain further access to this other world, this other realm, gaining better grasp and clarity of his will and his vision. Let us pause for a moment to contemplate heavenly things. In the Bible, every Angel or heavenly being that appears on earth, invariably opens with the line of “do not be afraid”. Now ask yourself why… Imagine the scene, place yourself there. A great and astonishing light manifests in your presence and an audible voice emanates from it. Everything that arrests your senses at this moment, is otherworldly. You’re encountering something spiritual, something supernatural. This would shock anyone, even the staunchest of believers, simply because it apposes our very nature, and nothing on this earth (save perhaps for the Word of God - the Bible) can fully prepare us for such an encounter. [Click HERE for my Bible Book Review.] “There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire within a bush.” – Exodus 3:2 (NIV) The Supernatural world is literally frightening to our natural earthly selves and shatters our perceptions. To make us understand the imagery the Bible uses things like rumbling, thunder and blinding light in the descriptions of heavenly creatures, with huge audible claps accompanying every flap of their wings. Side-note: (the Biblical word ‘Seraphim’ means “burning ones” – and taking the literal form of burning, the temperature of flames dictate its color,the hottest of which, is white… from yellow to red to purple to blue and finally – white heat). Also, in metallurgy, fire and heat is used to purify the metal, hence the colour and symbolism also denotes the purity of the Angels. In Genesis 3:24 the Cherubim (yes the same angels for which the little archery baby angels of valentines fame derive their name) Angels are described with flaming swords guarding the gate of Eden, inspiring fear and even dread. It was they, the Cherubim who brought down judgement on Jerusalem’s fallen people in Eze 10. These creatures are complex and strange (to our minds eye) creatures bearing no resemblance to the angelic figures conjured by by the majority of contemporary media. “… from what appeared to be his waist up he looked like glowing metal, as if full of fire, and that from there down he looked like fire; and brilliant light surrounded him.” – Ezekiel 1:27 (NIV) Of course applying this to our adult minds, well… as children we were always more adept and receptive to these otherworldly concepts, because as we grow older we seem to cauterize the capacity of our imaginations, seeing certain ideas as immature or irrational. Many are prompted to simply dismiss the supernatural – we are after all talking of things which are not human. If there is one thing we can say about all these visions, is that they are NOT tame. When people talk of being “God fearing”, it is in reference to the literal power and might of God. Here is a being who spoke the world into being… And yet, he loves you. He wants to spend time with you. He wants you to make the choice to love him, because within the DNA of creation, is a story of love and romance, adventure, beauty and purity. * And so, having touched on what heaven could be, we've also glimpsed the other side. So what of it… What is hell? Hell; there are many versions of it, judging by what we’ve seen here on earth, but in eternity, I feel that it is simply abandonment. Being alone in eternity. Cut off from anything and everyone. God loves us, and has offered his love to us freely, but many of us have shunned it. So when it comes to eternity, those who chose to, will be shunned by God. Spending eternity in solitude, deserted. Hell is the Abyss… it is nothing, it is the torment of abandonment, solitary confinement, but the opposite of that – infinite solitude, like being lost in space but without the reference of stars or planets. It is infinite darkness… “What is hell? Hell is oneself. But not to leave you on that note; Considering Lucifer, if we look at all of creation, we see the context. One must look at the greater picture, the whole story. Central to that story, is the fracture in heaven. Just think, the majority of Jesus’ miracles were to do with healing, and to be saved is to be “born again” in spirit… and God said in Rev 22 that effectively Eden, will be restored. Overcoming death (which was never a part of creation), healing and restoration are keynotes (to say the least). When God started the human story (our side) it was a new beginning of hope for what had transpired before, of restoring what was lost in heaven. But to do that, he needs souls who choose him, souls who will love him truly, deeply. Hence reclaiming the intimacy with God, lost in the Garden of Eden (yes this story haunts us), but made available again, afforded to us anew by the sacrifice Jesus made by allowing himself to be nailed to a cross and suffering our fate: death... Dying for someone, taking their place and giving everything for that person, no matter what their attitude or resolve, in all our sin and shame - this is the ultimate expression of his love for us. * “It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different - deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more.” Here you have the creator of the entire universe, whose splendour is for all to see… so ask yourself: what’s Heaven really like? Merry Christmas! {Image credits: Pinterest.com, scout.cheatsheet.me, yooperpage.blogspot.com, iliketowastemytime.com, helpyourselfimages.com, www.beautyscenery.com, intothesunrise.blogspot.com, www.tripadvisor.com, celebritiesinview.com, www.theguardian.com, www.freewallsource.com, commons.wikimedia.org, wallroro.com, imgarcade.com, pixgood.com, creative-universes.wikia.com, thefaithpal.blogspot.com, vulgaire.com} Related Reading: Flash Fiction: This (short) story is an 'interview'. It came about through two completely unrelated character sketches I was playing with... also, I was toying with character cliches. Titles I considered were 'Oceans, sketches & Sway', 'The Immortal tides'... He had a weather beaten look, like life had flung him across icy oceans, then dragged him down to the depths in mere moments, before the waters finally raised him against some craggy beach where the sun and wind had dried his skin, but where the saltiness remained. His wispy hair and gaunt, lined face seemed like more of a sketch than a real man. His movements were deliberate too; his hands moving like those of time itself. Have you ever been married? I heard myself say, trying to restart the conversation, which felt like trying to get a steam engine back on the rails. His eyes moved across my general vicinity as though they were lazily and haphazardly rummaging around, and casually assigning relevance to whatever he saw. Eventually his chapped lips parted, and a whisper snuck out. It sounded something like “… always” There was something different about his eyes. It was not a sparkle that one would liken to excitement, no. This was dimmer, like a flame, or glowing ember. There was a hint of warmth to his shifting stare. Somewhere, somewhere deep, a few memories were dancing around each other, coming into focus as they neared on whatever distant dance floor they were held. This was enjoyment of a different kind, like he’d rediscovered an old bottle of whisky, and had proceeded to study the label, despite knowing it by heart. He was now taking a sip of the memory, gently, letting the aroma meet him before the taste. It was a lesson in savouring. Whatever sadness lurked there, on the edge of that distant dance floor, waiting to cut in, seemed diminished by time. This dream of a memory was a quiet, melancholic enjoyment, the kind that seemed to never fail to inspire rekindling in this man, adding shades of life affirming color to the sketch of his face. It seemed to have greatest effect when coaxed out from wherever he’d tucked it, those many years ago. I watched him now. " It always started with the glide. The sound. Hard rubber soles over dusty wooden floor boards. A rare and unforgettable richness in timbre. The heel would come down with a dull clap. And then the glide again. Her leg jutting out, followed or led by her hip… Her head arched back. Her eyes were closed. Her neckline flowed in the dim light, over her chest beneath the cotton dress, to her belly. Her arms unfurled, wafting slowly above her head, ending in a cock of the wrists, and stiff straight fingers. A moment of stillness. Her fingers moved. Then her wrists straightened, and slowly the movements began to pour over the rest of her body. Before it reached her feet, the sound of gliding was at my ears. And then the clap of the heel again. It was the only way she knew. This was her story, and how she told it. One of grace, of sound, of stillness, and of sway. The rhythmical claps of the heels were reminders of bygone hitches, stifling the flap of her wings. This was a song of defiance and graft, a dance that continued well after the possessive smiles and reverent cheers of old crowds had faded. But her message was written in movement. I remember her movements more than her face, which always came in glimpses. Time does this. Faces change and fade in the memory, but her melody can never fail me, her story remains. That wind may be stifled, but it’s enough to keep these sails true. Her hushed movements, in the back of memories, lingers immortal. " I watched him in his thoughts. Before he took another sip, of the drink on the table I thought he’d forgotten about. With wet lips he whispered her name. Or at least I think it was her name. As he said it, a bus rolled by bellow the café window, muffling whatever his raspy voice had offered. I thought of asking him to repeat it, but hesitated. Perhaps it was a sign that I was not meant to hear it after all. And with that, the sounds of the day filtered back to my ears, brought back to the present after being taken by the brief old wind which quietened my thoughts for a few minutes, whisking me off to another time. I don’t know what I expected from this old man. But what I got was a few notes, a broken melody perhaps, like hearing someone attempt a tune on an old piano a few rooms away. I would let it be. Perhaps one day, without prompting, the melody, hidden from me, owing to time, dust and fog, ebbing even in the best of times, would once flow to visit me, in a dream perhaps. Sometime later I walked away from that old sailor, hoping perchance to stumble my way to that shore. And that the elusive tide would flow to meet my toes and dance before for me, just once. A faint whispered hope. But perhaps my own depths await, to one day earn the wash of tide through a half remembered dream. - Flash Fiction by Steven Benjamin. "For all is like an ocean, all flows and connects; touch it in one place and it echoes at the other end of the world.' - Fyodor Dostoyevsky {Image credits: pinterest.com, paintinghere.com} “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” – Ps 19:14 "So many men make the mistake of thinking that the woman IS the adventure. But that is where the relationship immediately goes downhill. A woman doesn't want to be the adventure, she wants to be caught up into something greater than herself." --- Extract: 'Wild at Heart' - John Eldredge. Secret thoughts on Beauty What is it about this thing? What is it that draws my gaze, my thoughts, my being? I’ve read and know that beauty nourishes, it invigorates, inspires, uplifts and sets fireworks in the imagination. Ohhh, the imagination… and this is where we’re at – or, where I'm at, You see, the imagination… Here’s an ironical thought; imagine a world where people didn’t have an imagination. Could we live in a world like that? Now take this; imagine a world without beauty. Could anyone live in this kind of world? Think of everything that is not beautiful, and feel the corners of your mind shrivel, and the depths of soul shriek in agony. Our senses cannot live without avenues such as these. We need the nourishment for this journey. But, and here’s the thing, beauty has another side. Because we’re drawn to it so, and because our soul craves it, we can at times allow it to overwhelm. And it can consume, it can consume. It happens most with artists, when they search for the meaning, the depth of it, and they delve into it, exploring something we cannot understand. The risk is raised when Love steps in. Again, for the artist, love and passion is all entwined in it. And it seems and feels pure, when all these fine elements are interwoven within. But what happens when it’s projected, or when life’s happenings and emotions become entangled. It’s why when looking at famous artists in time we so often see their loved ones dragged down by these seemingly honest pursuits. It’s where we falter. Because deep down, when all these various glorious elements like love, beauty, passion and raw emotion are explored, we find that at the core is something quite fragile. And if we really want to go there, if we really want to delve deep, we’ll find that that fragility is tied to everything in this world. It speaks to our very existence, and the world we live in. And this is where it becomes dangerous, because so often, it is unbalanced. In this broken world, beauty was always bound to be abused, tormented and wrought under the talons of depravity as men try to control or capture this illusive something. And how pure intent can get warped Pity we have to grow old Pity we have to lose our childhood innocence. Naivety can be the saving of some, and the death of others. And so, when we shoehorn ourselves into an odd quest to preserve something pure and beautiful, we have to constantly guard ourselves. Think about this; a man looks at a beautiful woman – and what does he think? What thoughts play in his mind? What are his secret thoughts, his secret desires? Sometimes its not that hard to see when witnessing their facial expressions just passing a woman on the street. A man can voyage to save something pure, but what if he were told that he was the very threat to that purity. Could he stay away Some talk of a secret thought life. If we could wear these thoughts on our bodies, what would we look like? And so, we can see how easily it is to pervert something pure… As a writer, no, never mind that, I’ve always lived inside my mind. My father said I have an overactive imagination (which was one reason why I had nightmares as a child), but as an adult, it helps me create believable fantasy, or in most cases, believable fiction, or interweaving fiction with reality. My mind is my strongest quality, and with that, potentially my greatest strength. When I explore something, driven by passion, my mind leans on the obsessive side of my personality, and here’s where the danger comes in, speaking of consuming. I’ve been told I would make a good detective, due to this very dog-with-a-bone type quality. But, the consuming comes into it when I take on pseudo problems that have no solutions, or when trying to understand and work people out. People are our currency, our inspiration for story, our subjects, and when we don’t understand them…where are we to go? And guess what? All those elements I mentioned earlier; love, passion, beauty – can all be found and explored in the brokenness and fragility of us, People. This is the crux – we’re a simple fabric made with a complex thread. It elicits ecstasy and pain all the same because all this grows from our soul. So when it feels like its deep, it’s because it is just that, it’s exactly that. People tend to undersell it, or take it for granted. That’s why sex is on the same level as shopping for shoes. Beauty or more specifically, sex (as sexiness) is used as a bartering tool to sell objects. Flesh is sold. People are sold… and whether overtly or covertly, people even sell themselves. Reverence isn’t enough, or it’s sometimes too much. When it comes to our secret thoughts, it’s invariably a question of balance. So let me end on a note of hope, instead of a hope for the best but prepare for the worst, or a ‘where did everyone go wrong’ – So, there is a way back, for me it’s through the Almighty, because if you cannot contribute-to/give/unveil/preserve/protect/nurture beauty, then at least just, Let it be. The torment in our souls is due to the lack or failure in searching for something that cannot be found in this world. If you're wondering where all this is coming from, well, we preach only that which we ourselves need to learn. As a man and as a writer, I constantly seek to understand, and when something riles at my core, it falls under my microscope, specifically and intensely. Beauty is otherworldly, but to truly appreciate it, we must focus and grow closer to the creator of that beauty, lest we fall and find ourselves settling for inferior pleasures, or idolizing earthly things. It's where it all started, with pride and betrayal in the garden of Eden, and the struggle within man continues to this day. This is simply part and parcel of my endless quest for purity, in God's eyes. "Never have I dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul" - Imam Abu Hamid al-Ghazali [Images: via pinterest.com] Are we talking literary or literally? Well, I read an article on the importance of writing and storytelling, and the author recalled a time when he was a paramedic… so no, we cannot literally save lives, as in resuscitate a person with words (literally), but we can save lives in other ways. It may seem like a simple realization but it’s one we need to remind ourselves of every so often. Looking at news reports of plane crashes and the military assault on Gaza - what can writing do - those people are dead? But writing can communicate the truth and inform those still living. Educate the present so the future doesn't reflect the past. Then there is also the nobility and catharsis, of just telling their stories. I was talking to a friend of mine recently, and she was sharing her recent trials and quite frankly, life threatening ordeals working with (reforming) drug dealers and gangsters – and her blunt reply about writing when I mentioned to her that it can’t save lives, was simply: “but it can”. One day I will write her story… And I'm sure it will reach out to someone in a dire situation in need of motivation through their struggles, even if it’s just that one person. On a more basic level, how does education work, how do we learn – through books, through writing, communication – without these simple elements - like textbooks, how many lives would’ve been lost? How did the medical profession come about? Someone had to be the pioneer, to analyse the human body and record their findings. Corpses were involved, and would not have been pretty, or perhaps even legal, but in that, in some way, the dead served to preserve the living... hows that for a story? So, I encountered this issue because I am a true believer – a believer in stories, writing and storytelling, and because I’m tired of the mediocre and the dilution and saturation of art. To further put this in context, I’ve been wrestling with an article on story, and the essential organs of it as it applies to a very popular TV series – and thence the temptation to dismiss it all and banish it to the box of “it’s just a TV show/it’s just a movie” – because this is what modern films, especially, have taught us with their lack of quality storytelling.
And so, we’re meant to sift through the dregs, to locate the stories we’re allowed to make a fuss over because there’s a place for the serious stuff, and a place for things like superheroes. Because we’re allowed to take fantasy series’ or books seriously, but not cartoons… Where do you draw the line, because there IS a line? Believe it or not, words are life – language, communication – words feed souls. We are on this journey and yet do not understand how there is a link between health (physical, spiritual and mental) and the power of words. What we see, and hear affects the way we feel, how we act and perceive things. We shall all die one day, and there is plenty of depression, misery and depravity in this world – and you may find that often some will not offer any solutions to the problems we’re facing, but will merely explore the problems further, holding up mirrors to it. I feel that part of being a writer is to feed the soul and in some way provide a light or a way point in the journey of discovering the meaning of this thing called life – for those curios about it – and stories are one such medium of discovering those morsels of meaning, so that regardless of your existential beliefs, it is not all for naught. Stories. They’re the beating heart and simultaneous nerve-center of us writers. They’re in and apart of us just as much as they abound everywhere. The plain truth is, our brains crave stories... "Classical story design charts the vast interconnectedness of life from the obvious to the impenetrable, from the intimate to the epic, from individual identity to the international infosphere. It lays bare the network of chain-linked causalities that when understood, give life meaning.” "In storytelling, the stimulus of words brings about the production of inner images, an extraordinarily creative play involving the entire brain. Each new story requires a whole new set of neural connections and reorganizations of visual activity within - a major challenge for the brain. . . . So neural potential goes unrealized and development is impaired - unless storytelling and play are provided on a regular basis." [Images: via pinterest, unless otherwise stated] Related posts: Why I write What will Matter The Flaw in Game of Thrones Category: Writing "Human beings devised writing to explore why we are here..." |
[Banner illustration by Joel Kanar]
WRITING
|