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Sunday, September 04, 2005

It's not dark yet

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Stardust molecules are collapsing in the corridors of my heart
Aflame fragments perishing in the quickening dark
Not wanting to journey this inevitable decline
Not wanting to die and still be alive

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Connections...

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Two strangers stare at each other from the opposite ends of a subway escalator, smiling in acknowledgment.

An individual starts a journal online, articulating his own depression and malaise. Within 24 hours he receives encouragement and advice from all four corners of the globe.

A young woman leans over the fence that perimeters a field of horses, smoking a cigarette and gazing upwards to the dark clouds that are beginning to engulf the sky. Bad weather is on its way. The arms of her lover emerge from behind where she stands wrapping her in an emotional warmth. She rests her head on his kneck and feels at peace with the world regardless of what lies ahead.

A group of old friends re-unite once a year in a city restaurant, catching up on each other's exploits while rekindling their fond memories from school.

Two sixteen year olds move on opposite sides of a dancefloor. Via fate, coincidence, or just the way in which they express themselves they end up facing each other, looking into each other's eyes and eventually kissing passionately. Their summer is irrevocably transformed into a blissful adventure of sunshine, drugs, clubs and house parties. It might have been so different, if only one dance step had taken them both in opposite directions.

A book club every fortnight brings together six disparate individuals to share their thoughts on literature and current events.

An older retired woman, living alone in a London Council block of flats likes nothing more than to read conservative tabloids, while getting wrapped up in the melodrama of popular Soap Opera's on TV. However by day she passionately reaches out to her community, volunteering to oversee the local tenant management organization. She listens to everyone's concerns, receving all of their phonecalls, personally making sure that the workers they employ receive their cheques on time. She fights for a youth center to pre-occupy local kids and steer them away from criminal behaviour. She negotiates Satellite TV for all of the residents... When she reaches, she does it with a concern and wisdom that makes her loved throughout her community.

Two men are walking their dogs down a narrow pathway separating the heavy forestry, enjoying the uplifting energy of the summer sunshine after a hard day's work. They stop and enjoy a pint of lager. They bitch about their respective spouses and offer competing perspectives on politics, business, and sports. They find a solace in each other's companionship that is unspoken.

A man in his late fiftees watches an African Carnival ensue outside his London flat. He hates the noise. He hates the celebration of a culture that is alien, when there is no comparable celebration of his own. He hates that for the three days the carnival lasts it takes him two hours to walk less than a mile to his house from the local train station. He hates that he can't sleep at night because there are street parties carrying on into the early hours... He hates the music, laughter, and cheers... And yet, when the Carnival is gone, deep down, he misses it terribly.

A younger man lies in bed with his wife... his fingers intertwined with hers and their hands placed together on the softness of her small stomach bulge. Together they receive an energy which brings a sense of purpose and meaning to their lives. They share imagined stories fortelling their imminent future, tucking their child into bed, reading him/her magical stories, playing games in the park, and taking holidays as a family... Together always, fighting to keep their child safe no matter the cost or effort required.

And in a remote farmhouse an old couple barely talk anymore. They go about their daily routine, cleaning, reading, gardening and shopping. They prepare a delightful dinner and eventually fall fast asleep infront of the TV. 50 years of shared experience binds them together. Their beautiful dance each day, hardly sharing a word, no matter how mundane, is all they need and all they desire. Their only fear is the prospect of losing each other. They only anticipate with dread the one inevitable day when they are no longer joined.

What are we when we are not connected?