Silverfish

Shifting realities

Hüzün

In the deepest oceanThe bottom of the seaYour eyesThey turn me

Why should I stay here?

Why should I stay?

I'd be crazy not to follow

Follow where you lead

Your eyes
They turn me.

Inside out

New hews

Ghosts

The last of the rustic... *sniff*

An old fear, a dull ache, thought long gone, sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Triggered by a word, an old photograph, a terrifying admission, a piece of music you’ve never heard before that unravels you, lonely agony, muted emotions, promises, and left-behinds. A house and its memories, a cramped balcony, a cityscape at night. A montage of photographs, a legacy of books, the end of a life, of lifelines and links. Chains and things, with patches of rust that you fear will grow. Of habit, a familiar pattern, a comfort, a home. Wordless drives at night dissolving in music, stars on a bedroom ceiling. Warmth, and hazy winter mornings, dusty curtains flapping in a gentle breeze, a familiar shape stretched out on a bed, a sleepy grin, a view etched in memory.

Faces in conversation

Crickets in the day. Wherever would you hear crickets during the day?!

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How well do you really know your face? If you suddenly had to describe it to someone, every contour, every scar, every blemish, the shape of every eyelash, the tint on each cheekbone, the texture of your eyebrows, the little 'ant' crawling purposefully toward your left eye, without a mirror or the touch of your fingers for reference, for guidance, how far would you reach in the attempt? Mirrors, photographs, portraits –- all impotent, shockingly inadequate in the quest to know a face inside out, to remember it forever, suspended in a moment in time. Because to know a face as it exists even if for just a single, fleeting instant, is to transcend the tiniest of gaps, physical and otherwise, between you and that face, even your own. Reach out and touch a face, and let your fingers linger over your favourite bits, understand your least favourite ones, read every hollow, traverse every bridge. Quietly drink in that face, that expression, gently surprised at each new discovery. And then observe that sudden, startling insight into a soul etch itself into your mind, a permanent, unshakeable, unchangeable memory. Years will fly, and the world will pass you by, but you will never forget the moment your fingers learned that face.