::: Western Exposure narrative

Someone once said: “The man of wisdom is patient, he waits for the sun to rise, to brighten his mind. He does not chase what comes natural”

Natural light. Camera. Action

We live in Bristol, UK. Dirty money, smoking music and painted walls. We have many windows here

We started out just walking, in search of ordinary things.

Like the path of sun, and the shape of a smile. Claiming concrete cities made of ashes as our own

Sweet morning! Once again we are at the alter of the magic that has no human face nor preference and cares not for us to win

We all know the sun is king

We are painters and painters. We are the dawn song. We close our eyes and sing because the light is already within

We are led by the light of a melody. By the melody of the light – we lead

We are travellers. We are the dance of the dream-led masses. We wander, wondering. We measure time by temperature. Distance by sweat

Walking these streets: leaving all lessons, books and thoughts behind – breathing the universal body of our blood. A million intelligent years within

As we walk we feel different. As we look, we begin to see. The vision is followed by venture. As we walk we feel different

We are not humanists, nor sentamentalists, not interested in the reality they try and put on us. We observe real life today in an unreal way

We are wondrous animals. We are invention. We are art. We are suffering energy animating the world we choose not to join nor depart

We are the contrast, the conflict, the contradiction. First we got dark. Then we got lighter. Then we got darker again. We heal in order to enjoy the pain

If so – how high are your highest highs, how low are your lows? Perhaps we find out by going where we need to go

We are of north south east and west, as bishopston, bedminster, clifton and kingswood attest

We meet, tips caps, turn back. We know it’s not where your’e from, it’s where you’re at

We are looking for light, and dark to put it in. It happens: Each time we open our eyes. Sleepy hidden shadows are never safe from us

We don’t watch just anything. We are democratic: we watch everything. We let it in and blink our eyes to change the scene

We explore our minds eye layn asleep on the floor, because we find what comes to us in dreams can end up at our door

We wake and throw the windows of our soul open to the sun, begging: more

Everything is poised on the edge of everything. Everything is connected. There is nowhere to hide. What we see around us is just a reflection of what we feel inside

We are the geometric chaos of a busy street. The whispered smiles as eyes meet. We are still awake when we fall asleep

We search for signs our worlds align along space and time… how long is now?

We are everything we think we are and anything we want to be. We are not only one thing

And as we lay our heads and yawn – we know: the past is the beginning of the beginning, and all that ever has been or will be is the twilight of the dawn

No closure

Western Exposure

Posted in general and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to ::: Western Exposure narrative

  1. Joanna says:

    Until I read this, I thought it said we are still awake AND we fall asleep. I love the actual words. and the whispered smiles. I read it from the top to the bottom and then vice versa so that I wouldn’t miss anything.

    I hadn’t thought of the sun’s path being the shape of a smile before – my first thought was that it was a frown but I can see that it’s just a lover you look at upside down.

    if only every city had such a tribute. Beautiful.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *