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It’s always strange looking back at old photographs
of yourself for some reason,
we sometimes feel more comfortable looking at picture of others-
it’s a weird moment of reflection that occurs,
and a wave of deep introspection that engulfs you
and helps to resurface memories and emotions
you have felt which are closely associated
with unforgettable thoughts that you had
and lived every second of that you dream about sometimes
when you are under the covers.
Looking at old photos, reading back old diary entries,
experiences, and memories, that you recorded,
but forgot about-
looking and finding a piece of your past
always reminds you, and always reminds me,
instantly of where I was, who I was, what I was thinking,
and what life was showing me and guiding me to
with its many sign-posts;
reading a note that we once wrote,
and which ended up being left intact for us to find again one day,
now and forever reminds me again and again
that things happen for a reason and are meant to happen
beyond any doubt.
I have been to many places,
and I love to go back to these same places on a different day,
at a different time, with a clutch of new colours
to my life and me in-toe.
Every day, everyone, and every place is different-
even though they and we may look and feel the same,
everything and everyone changes,
life in fact dictates this for its and our own survival,
and that is the best way to think
and the best way to go.
I look back often, because memories are important to me-
as are the people that I have met, all and every one.
I take pictures of lots of things, and self-portraits of myself
everyday to record and make a moment and a memory last
for as long as it can.
I look forward, and I look around me, every day at
the people in my life, and who I see every day with my cyan-coloured eyes.
I write and capture as much as I can.
I am inspired, and I share every hello that makes me smile,
and every goodbye that makes me cry.
There are things that happen to us that are incredibly
and intensely personal, and they should be kept
and they should stay that way-
but I do believe that there are a great many things
that happen to all of us that must be shared,
because they too can light-up the life
and brighten the face of someone else and make their day.
The world can seem like a smaller place now,
because we can share any-thing and every-thing
with literally millions of people simultaneously
all around the world in an instant;
the world feels more interconnected,
and our lives have become more interlaced,
and sewn-together like a patch-work quilt.
Ever since I was a child I have always felt
someone’s presence before I saw them,
and ever since I went to school, and I started meeting
new kids and I started making friends,
I instantly realized the importance and the power,
the brilliance and the magic, of strangers,
friends, and unique once in a life-time memories.
Life begins, and passes you by in a flash
that can seem, when you look back,
to have all happened in the fraction of a second.
There is more that happens to us than we realize,
and there is more to see than could ever be seen,
by you and by me,
but I just enjoy and live every second
as if each and every one was my last on Earth,
and I love the gift of life and living free
so much that I have to write when I can
about the poetry in my heart, and all around us-
when I sit down and share with as many people as I can
the exposure of the world that I see
in my poetography.
The infinite photograph of memory
is one of the most important, one of the most amazing,
one of the most powerful gifts in all of creation-
to see the detail beyond the snap-shot of the instant,
to remember and to relive every vibration,
to again be able to go back and talk to a long-lost loved one or friend,
simply defies explanation.
It can be hard to hold a picture in your hand
and to see the face of someone who you cared about at a time of great joy-
someone who you knew your entire life,
or perhaps someone who had an entire life before you even knew them,
whose after-image not even death could destroy.
A photograph of someone who made an impact on the world,
and on all who knew them,
can stir-up so many feelings of loss, torment, and pain;
however, an infinite photograph-
an ever-sustaining, interactive, re-visitation zoetrope of the mind-
that exists on another plane,
can reunite parted hearts,
and keep alive a shared capture of light and life that will forever remain.
It is in our dreams that our infinite photography develops fully
and reveals its meaning and infinite depth-
in dreams a blind man can commune with sound and see it for all its richness;
in dreams every facet of everything is remembered and felt intensely
by those who are deaf.
Our eyes see more in a single second
than our perception would have us believe;
what we think we see,
and what every region of the hemispheres of our brain
actually save, contextualize, and connect,
would be too much for our waking mind to interpret, or believe.
Infinite photography came into being the instant
that the first life on Earth became fully conscious of their sentience-
at the moment when eyes opened wide
and let in the light and shadow of all that surrounds-
that was when clarity first shone,
and the world started to make sense.
By the time of our last blink
the lens’ of our eyes will have exposed an endless album of multi-coloured,
multi-textured, multi-sense, infused pictures
that we have been witness to every second of our life’s path-
a breath-taking mosaic of our own making,
that will be the indelible flash of our life’s infinite photograph.
Everything
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 