Wednesday, January 18, 2012

morning glory

once you see the deeper meaning
in doing what you love,
an occupation ceases to be an occupation,
but a spiritual experience.

that is what i see
in musical performances,
by artists like yes
and many others,
which inspire me
in awe and spiritual wonder,
in guessing whether -
what they feel -
while writing and performing their songs,
equals the excitement of ipomoea purpurea,
the morning glory flowers,
when touched by the morning sunlight.

i can only hope
to do the same
with my chosen
profession.

Monday, January 09, 2012

never bend with the rainfall

one of the most curious things that stumbled upon me recently during my last visit to new york was the sight of padlocks on brooklyn bridge: a bridge over troubled water.






every padlock must have a peculiar story. a unique tale of hearts that attempt to resist the stains of age. but who can really tell what it narrates. is it a riddle, or is it a clue? is it a statement or is it a puzzle? a secret or an announcement? you can guess their meanings.




securely locked to the various parts of the steel construction by the happy hands of lovers - whose hearts must have been filled with joy and amusement. perhaps they were trying to pledge that their blooming flowers of affection will never bend with the rainfall or snowflakes, and that throughout their journey in life their footsteps will always rhyme.



like promises made in the moments of contemplation, like the ancient motion of the seas, like every sparrow in the sky, like every leaf that trembles with the winter breeze, there is no inclination to look back in any mistake.





walk yourself across this historic landmark if you happen to visit the city of the big apple, the home of the empire state, the cradle of hopeful dreams and the land of twisting fates. find these symbols in a concrete jungle where dreams are made.





scenes from my last day in 2011. a walk from from manhattan to brooklyn. gazing at the skylines and the east river. pondering at the tunes and the lyrics of yesterday. i walked off and look for america.

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

storyteller of yesteryear

don't matter if the road is long,
don't matter if it's steep;
don't matter if the moon is gone,
don't matter if the darkness is complete;
don't matter if the page is gone,
it's written that we'll meet.

i loved you when you opened
like a lily to the heat;
and i'll love you when it closes,
a thousand kisses deep...

(l.c.)

...it was a long journey, deep into a winter, all the way across the field of snow. there was a village in lancester, pennsylvania, known as the home of the amish farmers and craftsmen.






...cherry blossoms. it was among the first signs of spring in washington dc.

...else than the meetings at the world bank and the imf.





...a pillow of winds. white spring flowers. blue ridge mountain. west virgina.







...and as the month of may arrived, buffalo crossed the road on our journey to yellowstone. spring time in wyoming.







...all the way. up there, a journey to the lone mountain trail, gallatin county - montana.







...in search for grizzly bears, moose, wolves.








...all under the big sky of montana.








...and then one day, hurray! met the travelling tom in a perfect day in alexandria summer. fresh air at last. "...and they sat together in the park, as the evening sky got dark. she looked at him, and he felt tingles to his bone. oh well, it was a simple twist of fate.." (dylan)




"..there were books, on a hill, but i never knew their meanings. no i never knew them at all..."







"...till there was you."








...history in the making. july nine at the national monument of washington dc. a day of miracles.










...another restless farewell (dylan's):

" oh all the money that in my whole life i did spend; be it mine right or wrongfully, i let it slip gladly past the hands of my friends, to tie up the time most forcefully. but the bottles are done, we've killed each one, and the table's full and overflowed. and the corner sign says it's closing time; so i'll bid farewell and be down the road.

oh ev'ry girl that ever i've touched, i did not do it harmfully; and ev'ry girl that ever i've hurt, i did not do it knowin'ly. but to remain as friends, and make amends, you need to have the time and stay behind. and since my feet are now fast, and point away from the past...i'll bid farewell, and be down the line...

oh ev'ry foe that ever i faced; the cause was there before we came. and ev'ry cause that ever i fought, i fought it full without regret or shame; but the dark does die, and the curtain is drawn and somebody's eyes must meet the dayn. and if i see the day, i'd only have to stay; so i bid farewell and in the night and be gone...

oh a false clock tries to tick out my time. to disgrace, distract, and bother me. and the dirt of gossip blows into my face, and the dust of rumors covers me. but if the arrow is straight, and the point is slick, it can pierce the dust no matter how thick. so i'll make my stand, and remain as i am and bid farewell, and not give a damn! "

....time to explore! spider nest along the coasts of florida.








...islamodara, florida in summer.








...fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars. in our fasting days of ramadan in florida, redo and i knew it was just the right way to go to the space. sky was not the limit. moon was up there.





...old friends, new friends, ied prayer. indiatlantic, florida.








...there, and back again? magical summer trip.








...a little touch of magic and childhood dream in orlando, florida.








...bazaar, bazaar! in search for a circus of heaven. orlando.








...for rent. not forever.








...coast to coast. the gate was golden in september.








...as if you didn't know it. it was always for travel's sake did i travel. came so far for friends.







...far above needle-like coconut trees in vanuatu. september.








...postcards from west across the ocean seas: and vanuatu. and overseas.











...heat in the street. on the way to "open air museum" of world war ii remains: pacific war. guadalcanal, solomon islands.







...going back. suva to nadi, fiji.








...mount vernon backyard. george washington. autumn and you.








...is there another earth, as green as any carpet, that dares to climb to mountainside, until it's touched by snow? no, it's all here. maryland in autumn.






...when the music is over, please turn off the light. at the carnadi's home studio in potomac, maryland in autumn.







...tilden upon tyne; tilden green. all that once green must now turn to yellow.







...tilden home.








...another call: return to the pacific oceans.











...and the blue birds fly. and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true. and somewhere over the rainbow, november in honolulu.






...before i go. hear the train coming. see the neon lamp flashing. where do we go from here?







...a neighbourhood in new orleans. reminded me of cirebon, shrimp-town rock in java island.







...lake michigan at the horison of chicago.








...hello darkness my old friend, i've come to talk with you again. chicago in november wintry night. 'neath the halo of a street lamp...







"a man conceived a moment's answer to the dream..."