Wow

there are things we think we know, things we expect to act and behave in a certain way, as an allegory I would like to use the ukulele. we expect certain things and not others, I expect spring to have sun and almost be in summer.. but  it isnt summer or even close down here in aoterea. It can only be described as  a season of change, which should not be confused with “ a time for a change” because we have been there and the time changed, since it was a time for  change and now after time time changed we here now. This is not unlike something i saw this morning, it was a fairly arbitrary video on fly fishing and how it changed certain peoples lives and all the general schmaltz about living for now and working to live and living to work. It did not make a bad video, or story but it did highlight a somewhat amusing story i heard yesterday about a couple from NZ who their whole lives decided they wanted to live on a barge in the UK. the lasted all of 2 months before they returned home, sometimes our dream might be having the dream, the reality is sometimes not what we seek, sometimes we seek the dream. This is going to be long and laboured, 226 words down and 1400 or so to go plus the deficit from the Previous day.

there are a whole series of photos below, each displaying something rather unique about wellington in the rain.

I am including this Photograph or rather collage first of the City Gallery and square outside of it which i know for the Giant sphere ufo~thingie~mabob that hangs there and gets hundreds if not thousands of photographs taken of it daily. and the weird pyramid .. no idea what they are there for, but they are there. there is almost no one out there in this huge square with its patterned brick paving. rather than not being what it seems it is what is and yet it is what it seems, i just have no idea of what it is as it seems like a huge sphere in the sky and a pyramid in the middle of nowhere and there is nothing more to it other than that. I must confess i did mess up the pics a little, the idea was there, but the execution let me down a little, I will have to do it again tog et rid of the out of focus pieces and replace them. this was a whole series of photos stitched together with Hugin. the parts make the whole, but the whole is not the sum of the parts, rather just a part of the sum of the lot. silly I know but i was standing next to the library and that is of course a place of semantics. I sometimes wonder about some of the books I have read, am reading, want to read, want to re-read and some of them especially get stuck in a limbo, the most current being a god of small things, what a fantastic book, with fantastic characters and textures of India, very different but similar in my mind to midnights children, and both of them suffer the same fate, they are unread and are both on my nightstand, waiting me to finish them. It is not as if i am unable to finish books, at the moment I have read a whole lot of softer  books about after things like flyfishing and beer making and bread and sociology,  the FlyFishing book, was fantastic, even though it had little or nothing to do with flyfishing, it had to do with a sense of place and sense of activity. I think fly fishing is a lot to do with a sense of  place and being and sense of something that is not tangible, once again my brain explodes into divergent thought patterns, I will lay down notes and links for you to go look your self, I have seen them; fly fishing book by derek Grzeleweski, the book is called trout diaries, the other thoughts have gone while focussing on this… I am sure they will come back. what was apparent to me from his book was the following:  he is Polish, i am nominally of Polish origins , he loves fishin, he loves his dog, he writes well enough and I enjoyed his book, strangely one of the flyfishing club members i went away with to the Rangitikei this past weekend thought the book was rubbish as it had little to do with the technical mastery of fly fishing, for me the mastery is one thing that adds to the value of flyfishing, being there, catching fish which relies on some skill, seeing fish, releasing fish (i prefer to .. don’t really like killing fish).When I catch fish in the sea with Bait i have a little less remorse, I have no idea why? Even when i catch salt water fish by fly i feel i have to release the fish, which is weird, but that is the way the fish falls or slips through my fingers.

I have so lost track, yes am tending to speak like, like my children now, it is pretty sweet as  

I was still thinking about the books, and how we relate to books, and if i could read an e-book, strangely i don't think so.. even though i am a tech aware and tech savvy and use technology all day somehow a book remains a bound object, something that has tactile or haptic value attached to it, reference material can easily be seen on the web, but somehow the experience of having a large factor book with colour plates is rather amazing, especially large colour plates of hand illustrated images.. this is paradoxical? strangely when I read books of fiction or books or words, pages of words i prefer a smaller factor. Absolutely arbitrary, but it is what it is these are musings and ramblings, i write them, you chose to read them or not.

Back to the series of photographs, once again, the Rain the Rain, almost like the sea the sea by Margret Atwood, but more or less emotional depending where you stand on these issues. The next series of photos are sorta something different to the one above, but a lot the same.

Accidentally this photograph or sequence of 2 photographs captured something, not quite what i wanted but something surprising, the second photograph is almost without meaning on its own, the empty space, but when coupled to the previous photograph it suddenly fills the space with hope and answers. Our minds  play games with the empty spaces and the movement of the people in and out of spaces with the essence of their existence being moved to a memory of reality which was never  significant in any way, but now suddenly becomes more significant because there where there was nothing was previously filled with movement, all that remains is possibly the scent a few swirls a piece of paper a vibration on the door?

 

these all show me the experience of the day that was with people and wind and rain swirling around me..

somehow once again I don’t seem to be able to transend the 1300 word limit again, It might well be that is the length and extent of the though process in my brain, that I am already thinking about the friday beer after work, thinking about the thanksgiving supper we are having at the Germericans, thinking about the weekend and all the things i have to do on the weekend. So much to do, so little time. But as we know now is the time, but part of that time should be nothing time where we can wait till that time passes and ingest that which is around us and what we are experiencing. the weather gets better, the wind whistles past the windows in my office building. from next week we will have to return to fragmentary pieces of communication again as i will be back at the coal face and turning coal into diamonds again.