in 3’s

in 3's

The more I look at this photo, the more I find it interesting.
Three birds, three benches, 3:33. He was in quiet meditation despite all the noise.

I believe he holds a secret we all should learn from. The health of your mind. The power of your mind, is very important. More important than you ever thought.

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Everyday Magic

Everyday Magic

As long as I can remember, I always had an eye for magical things hidden in everyday life. I would stare and fiddle with plants and trees. Talked to insects in case they understood me. I would watch the snow fall for hours in the cold. Float in the ocean just to feel its waves move me back and forth.
I was a strange kid, I know. ^_^
It’s not very obvious what is magical and what is not. Actually, it’s more of a perception than say “Reality”.
But I have a question for you. What is reality? Is it real because you can hear, smell, feel, or taste something?
Do you not somehow use these senses in your dreams? Are your dreams real? (Not to get all Inception on you.)
I genuinely felt something when I turned towards the sun this day and snapped this photo of normal everyday people. I saw the Shadow consume them and the Sun peeking over the building. It was magical to me. As real as it gets.

Oasis in Concrete

Oasis in Concrete

Ford Foundation Building, NYC.

At first he was looking up. For longer than a moment, he marveled above at the unnatural abundance of nature in a city building. I stand watching him from outside on a cold sidewalk. He hangs his head slowly in despair. I thought what sorrow this man must be feeling, to hang his head in the middle of an oasis.

Old New York

Old New York

I wander sometimes. Actually, I wander quite often. I found myself walking north on second avenue somewhere around 50 something street. I walk so often, that sometimes I think I might have been a wolf or some kind of pack animal in a past life. I found myself in front of a hotel on a corner. An old New York carriage sits in their courtyard. I imagine people of high prestige and wealth were carried along in these things by horses. The Maybach of the time, now just a prop and gimmick for a hotel. Even the business man through the window moves faster than this carriage.

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Fabric of time

Fabric of time

In the fabric district I heard the sound a lot like the rustling of leaves. A sound foreign to cityscapes. It was actually purple, light purple, and white. A beautiful piece of garment inviting you to the shop doors. I looked at it and thought, “I most definitely should process this in color.”
But naturally, I thought about what it would look like in monochrome as well.
I thought I probably wouldn’t know exactly what I was looking at. That it would look really strange and curious.

Moments in Between

Moments in Between

My style has been changing. I can feel it. I can see it.
The way I look at things is different. I’m starting to notice small, subtle, fleeting, moments in time. My eyes are still looking for the light, yet it’s respecting the darkness. I’m seeing the absence of light. The darkness is just as important, if not more important. Without darkness, there can be no light.
It’s simple to notice the loud, blaring, colorful, attention grabbing “thing”. Everyone notices it.
But loud colors mean nothing in the dark. It swallows everything. Nothing can exist in it. And if nothing can stand against the darkness but the light, then let the darkness guide you. Let it outline and solidify the light, just as light may banish the night.