“There’s no better way to create your own prosperity than to engage yourself in something you are passionate about — and that serves others in the process.”

A camera is a tool for capturing images. Those images can be many things – frozen moments in time, representations of reality, a singular perspective. From the days when sitting for a photograph took hours, to our present day world of instant gratification, photographs are a huge part of our lives.

To me, photographs are part memory holder, part souvenir, part record-keepr, part artistic endeavour… Through them I can reflect on the past, places I have been, people I have shared my life with, things I saw or felt and thought worth trying to capture.

The most memorable times in my life have been recorded faithfully. A year spent in Europe resulted in a detailed album with annotations and captions. So what does it mean when there are gaps in my photographic record? When I feel down, I tend not to record anything. Those periods are reflected only in the images taken by others, if Ishow up at all. This is understandable.

But what about those times when I was gloriously, deliriously happy, but have no pictures of that time? The absence of images makes it seem like a hazy memory, almost as if I imagined the whole thing. How is it that having pictures, even one photograph can make an experience seem all the more real? As though I need proof that I was really there.

Maybe that is also why sometimes, when I get into a dark mood, I feel inclined (though I try really hard to not succumb) to destroy photographs. As if that simple act can clear my head, erase memories I wish I didn’t have, remove all trace of a painful experience.

But when the day comes that I can look back without pain, I often wish I did have that little glossy rectangle, its two dimensions conjuring up emotions and feelings from a mysterious intangible place.

I really don’t think
I can do this again
Will I be your lover?
Or perhaps just a friend?
Should I stay right here
Or try to walk away?
Maybe block you out
Or hear what you say
I want you to be there
But it’s getting too hard
Maybe I will have to
Be friends from afar

The strong one
Who doesn’t need help
Who gets the job done
Who supports you
Who lends a hand
Is struggling, is scared
And needs someone strong

A simple thought
Triggers the flood
Opens the gates
Of my eyes
The salty stream
Clouds my sight
Mars the face
Of my heart
This quiet eruption
Brings no release
Drains the life
Of my soul

I’m being torn apart
By  internal collisions 
Conflicts of constructs
Messing with my head
Things I should do
Against what I need
Words left unsaid
Screaming out inside
Wanting to reach out
Or protecting myself
Knowing what I feel
While questioning all
Holding it together
While falling apart
My insides are messy
My head hates my heart

You can close your eyes to what you don’t want to see;
But you can’t close your heart to what you don’t want to feel.

- A very profound Facebook status from a friend

Hmm, my blog birthday passed without my noticing this year. Thursday, April 2 made 4 years of me blogging.

Four years, over five hundred posts and how many thousands of words later, I am still enjoying blogging.

Although in that time I have largely abandonned a couple of other blog projects (hoping to get back to them), I’ve encouraged several people to start even if they keep it private to themselves or a select few. The number of blogs I read has exploded exponentially, mainly because of the ease of use of feed readers. I have learnt more about some friends, and met some people through their blog. I have edited a few other blogs, and now work on a couple blogs as a technical assistant of sorts, helping to keep them running smoothly. 

It seems I am deeply ensconced in the blogosphere and it does help to keep me sane in my random moments of despair and hopelessness.

In this age of global interconnectedness and terminal disconnectedness, my blog is the flag on my isolated little mountain, simultaneously declaring my presence and inviting others to join me. If you’ve been here for the four years, then you have already learnt more about me than you probably ever wanted to know. If you only came along recently, welcome! 

Four years down, how many more to go?

A soloist begins a journey
The simple sweet melody
Standing alone

Another  voice rises beneath
Creating a harmony
Voices in tune

Improvising together, the duet
Performs in celebration
Music is love

In the early morning hours,
The faint glow returns,
Shining on my face
Where I lie. 
Looking out onto the world,
My eyes take it all in,
Seeing where I am
From my room.
If I need to escape the confines,
I can just lean across,
Throwing it open
For fresh air.