Wind, Wellington, Aotearoa and the Cosmos

Thoughts buffeting the mind like winds in the trees on Mt Victoria.

Picture in your mind Wellington's wild winding packets of air whirling about across the trees in shapes that can be made out from hundreds of metres away by the naked eye.

The leaves revealing a white grey underside to the light, for the sole reason that the motion of the universe caused them to move.

Thoughts, moving at speed,are much the same and can quickly unravel assembled notion, causing a sudden burst of question, that causes rapid disintegration of logically compiled areas of reason and belief. Like the way the wind bursts across Mt Victoria, scattering natural debris before it, energizing and depleting those things that happen to be in its path. Within the chaotic yet synchronised continuous revolution that is this universe, all such natural movement is reasonably created to a certain degree by patterns in the flow of atoms.

Thoughts of an island home, twin outposts inhabited by sane wanderers, who feel at home everywhere, but still often think of the shores of Aotearoa as a place where true rest can be found. The brazen logic and sanity of NZ is something I often miss, humor so dry that even Aussies occasionally miss it.

The future presents itself every moment, seeming to beckon us to action, whatever it is we consider action to be. There is such a beautiful insanity to the universe on a larger scale, an insanity that exists in our misunderstanding of the universe, and our continued efforts at reasoning as to what it could be.

Back to those winds though, surging through the valleys and oceanic passages that surround the city named for the man who defeated Napoleon. A special city, a truly magical spot, imbued with a lurking presence of chaos in its tremulous underbelly, the people and the fault line.
This magnificent planet, this mind boggling universe, they await us, every time we wake, with questions and answers so numerous we could never take them all on.

Let us dance the dance of beatific wonder, when we can allow ourselves to do so, so that we may again appreciate the magnificent unknown, and the great puzzlement this encourages in us. We must never rest, for we have given ourselves clues into understanding through dogged determination to make sense. There is no harm in continuing to attempt explanation of everything. The future does not hang in a balance, it rests in possibilty, for us to whirl toward, on a planet that travels through space, anchored to nothing, taking humanity on the greatest journey ever witnessed. Enjoy it while you can, and help others when you are able. We have a responsibility to foster the cause of humanity with everything we can.

The wind is a way by which we see the miracle of the universe in motion, its effect is to move us to motion and thought, it causes an emotional response, as well as a pragmatic one, its cause lies in far off galaxies, but then those galaxies are equally as affected by that which occurs around us. Relativity, movement, the flow of the cosmos. See it, realize it, and be it.

Dainty dumplings dangling in doorways

Too many questions, topography is one.

'Where is my damnable topography map for the sake of Jupiter and Mars!'

Grandiose explanations for lackadaisical happenings.

Embroidered stories, to stop the horror.

What was that I said the other day? Am I crazy? Is everyone I see every day crazy? Acting sane we are. Are we playing the part well enough? Is the reason we admire good actors because they are the best at that which all of humanity do everyday? Yes.

Direction is the really crazy one, the real life directors, away from films, those who direct others in everyday life, for they are after all what gives the 'film director' their title. Ability to direct, or compulsion to direct, to compel others to do. These things denote a type of craziness that goes far beyond that of the average person trying to conceal their real self.It can be quite lovely, everyone, everything, is intriguing. Where would we be without directors? They are brilliant, as are all those people and things that can move you emotionally. We are carbon based life forms after all. Shine on you crazy diamond.

Theatre of imaginings. Totem.

The brain. The mind, the psyche.

Twisted conundrums, wasted illusory peace. Sweet rest.

Awakened panic, slow, deliberate reality sliding in from somewhere, yes, I am alright.
That sun/rain feels delightful on my brow, how sweet it is to lie beneath this canopy of galaxies.

Serendipitous meetings encouraged by academic or economic yearnings.

Crouch low when you strike a high strength ultra meshed steel fence rusted at the bottom in the courtyard of the high security wing. I did so once many years ago to escape from a so-called 'high' security psychiatric facility, and the elation that accompanied it was quite exquisite, there was literally no other way out of that particular ward. Most efforts at escape were on visits to the 'open-side' or when I was moved there. Plus whenever I made escapes I was still 'crazy', not quite under the yolk of the psych drugs just yet.

Looking out at the world from in there.

I said to myself 'They are the ones who are crazy'. Lunatics, moon moved, everyone of us, bodies of water, tidal emotions...

Some of the safest moments of my life were in those crazy walls. But also some of the bleakest. Enriching it was.

To some I would recommend it. Though of course, it is rather odd.