yoyo ramble relief

how many paths must I stray away from so I don't have to see you again.
.
you from the attic in the hill with the honey jars, you,of the cocker spaniel dreams,
of the home on the twin hills,of the horses..
.
you in the clothes store trying on the clothes I knew you'd fit just by seeing your photographs, the clothes which would have fit thAt loved one. you were that loved one, and you've never met me,but I knew,I knew you fit better into the frames I was being rammed into..do you know your photographs are still up there?
.
.
and you from the streets of Pune, you of the scrawled on wooden table tops,you of the war time tomb stones,you,you who had no questions.
.
and what about you of the wheat in the football fields,do you know about the film I shot in those same wheat fields?will you ever see it?
and you and you..

I don't mourn you
but you are parts of me still walking solitary ways
how many paths must I stray away from so I don't have to see you again.

month after a shoot and it starts all over again.
the pictures have started connecting in my head
fiction.. a story,this time
it's dusty in the pictures
these ancient silent figures seem to have found their outlet
I seem to only be a facilitator
facilitating with no compulsion
working in automation
drawing on some deep quiet vessels of calm
one step to the next
.
.
slow
.
.but I move

and I can still tell what doesn't fit.

kokoschka..

and we are what we share.

you are what you do.

aquarium fish are strange
when they're about to die,their heads turn up to the water surface
and they keep bobbing up and down losing balance
sometimes they do cart wheels.