Tag Archives: #mexico

B88 … does love really bind this universe as one…in the folds of all matter?

The Beast and The Beauty

The chance that life would get back to normal, a new normal, similar, was an illusion. They knew it and in your hearts you knew it too. There was nothing going to be the same as it once was. Doors had opened and there was nothing that was going to turn it around, go back, close the doors, seal up the cracks and force everything that escaped out into the light to forget what was now embedded into the new brains of humanity, virtual, real, organic or robotic. Not going to happen. These changes are so vast, they may be talked about in detail for centuries, they may have set off a stampede of change that will never be understood with absolute understanding. Possibly the poets of the future will disentangle the truth of the matter with words that pierce sharp to the heart but wander off in vague clouds thru fine lines shaped into bitter decisions as poets often do. Who knows is nobodies guess.

The ‘great deception’ will hang in the museums for millenniums as evidence for ‘the last transformation’ of humanity, the ‘humpty dumpty’ of the 21st century.

Curbs of water ways a metre high

I walk down the streets of Campeche, the historic city of the Yucatan Gulf Coast. Curbs of water ways a metre high down cobble stone beds of centuries of memories embedded into streets. Words just flow out and over the cracked stone of archaic spirits assembling in the night air as i tread upon the web of memory that entangles the people, the wild ones, the earth, and the sacred waters of time. I am a witness of existence for a moment or two then the water ways of the mind fade into the darkness to where they lay silent once more for another soft observers eyes.

The wars fought here on this ground. The great sorrow and the wretched, sordid, mucky minds that shaped these canals into a future that now tends to forget the details, the horror of it all……….war, so praised, now hangs in the halls of museums and is now the entertainment of tourists of our day. This is the way of humanity, once love is forgot and a more prosperous deception as hatred persists, war surrounds the mind. Such is the life and death of man as the collective mind unfolds through the canals of time.

There is love in the air remembered in the petals of the flowers blooming in the streets, in the fields, the jungles and even the minds strewn across the globe. I am in this love some times.

There is no lock down here as back home in Ontario, Quebec and stretching across the nation of Canada. The madness persists, conclusions warping the trend, the fight between this side and that, these details and those, deception and honesty. The people are divided, real debates are hidden within the fears of death and truth sits camouflaged with broken facts and obscure intelligence. It’s a mess and the night is closing in.

Kachi Pondering on the Chess Board of Life

Day breaks into a heavy sun bright and free. Kachi is lonesome, i can tell. She is tired of the hot days in the car and no great adventures like the BC forests and the cold fresh waters upon its land. We decided to move on from here to Progresso in the Yucatan, booked a B&B for three nights on the beach to get our heads around the possibilities that face us.

We arrived to a quaint little apartment a few miles from Progresso. There are a few other guests, a couple from Hungary, the owners are British and have lived here for ten years. Chelem is a small fishing village with nothing much other than a few stores and lots of small fishing vessels.

After talking with Mila the Hungarian young woman we learned that in Hungary hardly anyone wears a mask anymore. She feels as us that there are tons of opinions based on little truths and many lies intermixed to a structured media-brew for the masses. Everybody is truly confused whether they want to believe it or not. The owner here, Tony, seems unconcerned about masks. That’s all i know, for now.

The first morning here quiet and thoughtful. Went for an early morning swim in the gulf, ran, exercised, felt the energy of the space upon my face, the mind went quiet for a time, there was an attraction laying out its tentacles; something was right.

Another Splash of Puddle Art

We went to see the town a couple of miles down the road and an adventure of looking for a longer term home began. We met a few locos that showed us a few places, either too small, decrepit or to huge and glamorous but we were set on the right track. Accidentally found a cool cafe and our first gringos we happened to meet whom were having breakfast, were from a little town north of Qualican Beach which is an hour north of our home in BC. The Mexican Hombre owner of the restaurant taught at the Quelph University my home area in Ontario. We were surprised to find a cool cafe let alone people from our past spaces. Magnetics of the heart, i suppose, connecting. We gathered lots of info concerning rental prices and other data of interest for expats attempting to smooth out the edges of fitting in somewhere here.

There is too much to be said concerning the many things that happens in a day to a mind travelling new territory that questions too much and can never say enough. That’s me, not unlike many of us questionable humans.

Night time came quick today. It was a good day. Hardly any covid news and just about ready to tune into the data from around the world via my trusted sources, and i don’t trust much and that is exactly the type of mind i trust, those are my preferred sources, those that don’t know more than they do.

The Zocalo in Campeche

It appears to me that the masses that continue to follow the planned narrative will stay stuck until they realize that the multi conglomerate pharma industries are not their friends along with all the other super rich industrial giant minds. The main stream media is now owned by them and their news is simply propaganda to continue your views parallel to execute their plans. Until such time there will continue to be a war between the heart and the mind, the conscious and the structured, the slaves and the freedom warriors. I am unsure of my purpose here but it is not to lay out the facts to prove these thoughts, there are plenty of slicker minds than mine that are exposing data and varifiable facts that convey these opinions, to show in detail how humanity has been manipulated strategically to a very foul end. I will leave it that. There is so much arising in the minds of the fighters with thousands of hours of videos and literature exposing these truths. It is up to the individual if you really want to know what’s happening or just be a part  of the foul narrative. Humanity is waking up, humanity is falling asleep. This is not my problem, my mission, my job.

Scenes along the Streets of Campeche

We here, Sasha, Kachi and I are looking for a place to lay our weary heads for a few months and take it from there. I will say this one last concept on this topic, the reality of what is really happening is so far out of reach of most of us that eternity seems like a minute in a month of this world.

Man is not a free thinker, a free thinker does not think, but allows thought to think itself out, freely. The controller of thought is the thinker caught in a prison of his own making. Us mind travellers weave in and out of this plane, but we are all caught to a degree.

Krazy Kachi Reflected En Mexico

We found a place month by month, on the beach, modest and the cheapest we could find……this shall do. We have been putting up with constant hammering from the next door construction for the last week, morning till night. Tomorrow, Sunday, the Sabath, the day of rest, and we’ll be gone.

Such is life, noice, light, mind pollution, there is no place to hide, micro-tech is everywhere, in everything, gmo humans walking with the dead and flourishing…….‘what can ever stop this wheel from excelerating out of control’ is the question of the millenniums…….does love really bind this universe as one, in the folds of all matter or is this simply just another illusion?

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Sometimes, i have to admit, it just seems to tear too sharp along the sentiments of my heart, all this madness, everywhere, better to punctuate an end with a last period. Sadness too heavy to hold, loneliness so far from home, no purpose worth a moment, kick the last can down the street and call it quits…………….so far, this air has blown thru my mind, one day, it may not.
Things change, the mind moves and before you know it there is light against the walls.

Streets Upside-down Exploding in Beauty

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images and writing by patrick wey

299 … somedays are just like that

299 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/19 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
somedays are just like that
a man behind your back in a hat
people looking in you, through
refined filtered lenses
Image circa 70’s….with a few words today.

292 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/12

292 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/12 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Good bye Mexico, hello North Land
Heading north again, had my time in the sun. Was sick for a few days. Sasha was sick for a week or more. That’s life you deal with what you’re given. Goin to miss the many of the natural elements of mexico. The kids and their less aggressive attitudes towards everything, most of the friendly gestures from the people, beautiful señoritas, friendly eye contact often everywhere. The food and its natural flavours, the sun and thank god for shade. But there is usually a ‘but’. The mad relationship towards music and obnoxious sounds till all hours of the night. Fire crackers in the streets early in the morning. I don’t get that, some strange celebration for the morning sun with no care of how many people are disturbed. I figure it is a deep seated celebration of war, of victory, conquer mentality and now deep rooted into the culture that most don’t even hear it happening. I mean it is really loud like being in a war zone………weird is all i can say. But over all there are many more positive aspects to a life not as tainted and controlled as in the north. You need to know where to go to find that peace and sometimes a vacation can be almost over before you find those places. It’s over.
Image circa 1995

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0306.tif
Patrick Wey

291 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/11

291 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/11 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Those fuckers are gonna get a beating today. They’ve been pushing us to the limit for years and today is the day we give it to’um good. Maze, bullets, skull crashin, those left winged fuckers are gonna get exactly what they deserve.
‘Ah this coke tastes good, wonder how the kids are doin’, “little Juan has got his first soccer tournament today”, ‘hope i can still get there to see him beat the shit out of that out-of-town team’. “Hey Antonio lets grab a beer after we crack a few skulls and tell the wifes we have to work late….maybe fuck a few too”.
“Here they come, let’s move slow and let the foot soldiers give the first beating to wear them down some”.
Time passes and the attack backs down. After a while the new shift comes in and Ricardo and Antonio go for a beer and more.
That was on the shelf of yesterday, today and tomorrow.
Image circa 70’s Mexico City – writing today

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0374.tif
Patrick Wey

289 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/09

289 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/09 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Just before i took this shot we stood there not knowing what to say. The end was dripping from our lips, the last kiss was done and in your mind, you were already walking. That’s the way it goes sometimes, quick, just like the way some things fly into your life. I recall the beauty of the day when i saw you by the bench, the one that faces the long and narrow park, the one we sat at for the next two weeks before this night. It appeared we were falling in love until our differences emerged and spread out on the avenue like a night can do. You had your dreams laid out like a text, mine just surfaced out of impulse and they saw each other in the light of the day and freaked out. Our love was never meant to build a family around, it was not tough enough to stand alone, not true enough to create. So there we were feeling miserable for a short sweet past that was ending and a future with no spirit to be.
You shuffled in there sandwiched against the masses and wham the door squeezed shut and that was it, the last train left the station and left me stranded in the twilight just as you had found me there in a Mexico City night at some forgotten stop long ago and that was that, done, gone forever cept this last image from my crazy shutter sped finger tips.
Image circa 77 Mexico City – writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0050 (2).tif
Patrick Wey

288 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/08

288 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/08 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
In the early part of the century i made my living as a photographer on a tour boat in Xochimilco just on the south side of Mexico City. People called me Jose but my name was really Fernandez and i lived the life of a photo-specialist. Having the eye of an artist was just the beginning. In those days you had to know the science of lenses, the chemistry of film and developers and the physics of light. You had to be a mechanic of sorts to deal with all the apparatus and a carpenter and painter for sets, let alone a marketing genius and promotion manager just to stay in the business. I loved my work and photographed some of the many celebrities that visited the City from all over the globe. Up and down the canals of one of the most scenic places near the city. Flowers and vegetation showered the days with beauty and my life was in love with me. Things changed when 35mm cameras came into vogue and more and more people took their own images and the competition made the game much more challenging. I managed, i had a talent for staying in the game, i survived, lived a long life and have images in a few of the museums spread across the city. I died decades of years ago now and with the advent of digital modernism in all forms of media in the hands of the many, i survive only in the minds of a few surrealists and history buffs. This wandering 35mm gringo caught me doing my thing way before his time and he’s probably close to the final curtain himself if not already gone.
We shared a smile before our boats parted up and down the canal and that was that.
Image circa early 70’s – writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0054 (2).tif
Patrick Wey

286 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/06

286 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/06 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Today everything is a little off. The mural on the wall is slightly tilted. The people don’t seem right. Their voices are gargled their smiles slanted. Everything is a little crooked. Colours are overly bright and in your face. The parrot is squawking more than normal and wavering back and forth shaking his gage in response to something that i can’t quite put my finger on. The music seems to be missing a few notes here and there, the sun can’t decide on showing up or staying away. The waitress is hesitating unsure of what to suggest.
Me, i feel fine, perfect of sorts, just wish my head didn’t exist for awhile, too much pressure in doing nothing, to get things right, to make it straight
Image circa 77…writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0136.tif
Patrick Wey

285 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/05

285 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/05 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The sun is setting. Pelicans are diving deep. Sticky clouds are falling off the edge of the horizon. Waves are turning themselves in, folding up into the shore. The sky on the sea is blooming mauve, burgundy, shades of tangerine. Silhouettes of clifftop islands march into the open fields of the long ocean. Dreams sail across the waters as a warm breeze and history kisses the palms full of mellow truth and endless time.
The day is turning in, families are calming down and cuddling into the evenings
night and talking soft like the rolling waves along the endless shore line.
The smart phone has spread its wings of information into every mind along the beach. The glow of communications illuminates dark faces in the dusk of the towns spread along the beaches of civilization. We are connected. Music emanates from every space of humanity. Silence is rare and feared. The sound of nature considered boring and naive.
In a typical day and average mind hears more songs than most would have heard in a full life time from the mid eighteen hundreds and before. People have become addicted to entertainment. They can not function without some visual and/or sound piercing their brains all day long. In the car, in the home, in the street, in the shops, department stores, in the work place, in everything everywhere from sun up to sundown, thru the night, thru their meals, while they think from birth to death.
My attempt to find a quiet sunset failed. Only the silence i preserve inside can keep me calm. You either become numb and fall into the noice or one must learn the difficult possibly impossible techniques to eliminate the frequencies agitating the cells of ones being. Eventually the civil law will force head set use in areas just like the forced smoking space. Common sense has rarely been common and getting more rare as the minutes roll in from the avenues. Light pollution, sound pollution, toxic pollution, mind pollution. Mankind is a very rude specie.
The sun is down, i missed most of it dealing with the new humanity infiltrating my brain. Fake pounding drum beats driving itself to the core of the mind constantly everywhere. From LA to Zimbabwe, Shanghai to Siberia people and their light, sound, fumes follow you like a trail of prophesies down the long turbulent road of humanity.
I left the beach and headed along streets of scratchy noice bouncing off cement and metal from the dreamt up structures forcing gas-lit bulbed-light across smelly air and despite things, i felt alive. Here i am small town mexico accepting life as it is, watching young girls, some of them with more folds on their stomach than i and others dripping with tight tenderness remembered from so long ago. Old men, young men, broken bicycles, loud exhaust, sharp light and noice from every direction. Ah, the romance of the cobble stone road down soft lit dreamy streets just far enough away from the mad action of the centre of town. I made it, peace caressing my mind.
Wherever you go today most of society is active and noisy. Technology is a gift but certainly a curse for all of the other secondary species inhabiting, coexisting with us here on this majestic planet.
I am here and i love it, most of the time. You just have to learn how to weave in and out of the mess outside and to warm up to those cosy corners that one must protect so well, inside. A few deep breaths and then the focus, attention.
Image circa 1977 – writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0242.tif
Patrick Wey

283 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/03

283 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/03 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The church, the cathedral, the lords house with its high ceilings and its sacred echo of angelic song and the voice of the lord emanating from high above the gold glazed alters. One can not mistaken the presence of pain and suffering jesus bestowed for the hearts of humanity to elevate themselves from venom of the earth to a higher order in the presence of god himself.
While the poor praise with their last material wealth to be in the presence of the lord, in their church of worship for the salvation of all, while at the same time the clergy, the bishops and priests live within wealthy walls and eat from the sweat, blood and toil of the congregation. The vatican being one of the wealthiest institutions on the planet let alone all the protestant jesus follower institutions of one kind or another. It is overwhelming that this continues while the planet dies.
I cannot continue writing about this hypocrisy and realize how many millions upon millions have bought into this absolute rubbish. It is just way too much for this brain to comprehend. There is more than enough evidence for one to discover this deceptive structure if one really wants to know the way it is. We got the internet, google, you tube, tons of info, there is no excuse other than a lack of courage and will.
I remember when i first entered a sweat lodge. It was a windy winter night in December, cold and snowing. The ground was frozen as we crawled into the sweat lodge church to sit on mother earth and talk with our creator, the grandfathers, the wind, the water. With shorts and a towel and not until everyone was inside and the hot glowing grandfathered rocks were brought in did the space begin to heat up. I remember realizing that no matter how powerful one medicine man became he could only instruct no more than the number that could physically sit in this church, his/her sweat lodge. It could never be institutionalized, it would never have gold statues and high echoed angelic ceilings. You had to be brave humble and sincere to crawl into this church and anyone was welcome, the priest, the medicine man was merely a conductor for procedures to run smooth and safe, but the teachings came from elsewhere. Many visions occur in this physically symbolic womb of mother earth.
The church in this image is one of millions on this planet with a wealth undescribable to most members. It is totally disgusting, unjust, useless and serves mankind as a cover-up for real so called spiritual work. It is time for humanity to wake up and shut down these institutions that are sucking their wealth and their souls dry.
This is my opinion and apparently jesus had a similar concept; possibly he implanted this in my brain.. I was brought up catholic and it took years to scrape the quilt off my soul for feeling condemned for what would be called blasphemous for realizing the total insane structure of the church and all its fabricated higher order.
I understand that people feel they need to have something to believe in. Most do not have the will or integrity to truly investigate for themselves and the few that do often take the easy intellectual route with a few schizophrenic like visions as proof that it must all be real. A few visions are just the tip of the iceberg on the real road of the pathless trail.
Of course nothing of the sort is going to happen in my life time. But i don’t need jesus, moses, mohammad, budha, and all the other gurus and entities to be right and honest and true and i don’t believe anyone else does neither. If anything, we need to be saved from this conventional institutionalized religious dogma before all mankind and the earth is completely destroyed. That includes the strict beliefs in anything including cast-iron science; the law is changing moving evolving, the mathematics of tomorrow will be a religion of the past. It is simple, as thought is stationary and still, reality is moving and on the go. One must dive deep into the abyss to see how shallow the idealistic nature of the ego really is and how to un-stick its nature.
It feels right and true to walk within the changing tide, scary at times but as it should be and never the less, as it is.
This church as so many others is a beautifully architecturally designed structure and though i do appreciate the ingenuity and beauty of mans creations, overall, my heart prefers the architecture of nature and for prayer and revelations, the simple humble structure and immense powers of the sweat lodge.
The war of the gods is all in the heads of man.
Image 1977 Mexico – writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0081.tif
Patrick Wey

281 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/01

281 Image-Content of the Day 2018/12/01 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Remember when we were young how nothing much mattered. It was all so immediate, the closest things at hand were all that we paid attention to. One minute we were laughing and the next questioning and learning something new. Simple things kept us amused for hours, dislikes tormented us every time they arrived in our mind. Food we hated to taste but were forced to digest turned us into panic, tears, disgust.. We would cry as if the world was about to end.
When we were tired we just wanted someone we loved to be close. I suppose we have learned to control these reactions as age developed but it makes you wonder occasionally with the way we are still so often like grown up kids.
There are billions of pictures of children these days and more and more being created every second. Black and white and gray. The texture of the background wall against the casual stance of a young man watching over his younger sister protecting her from any possibility of harm. This was in a time when it is quite likely that they had never been photographed before; an honour possibly, a suspect likely.
Love weaves itself in and out of reality like an intricate cloth woven by special angels and occasionally the past arrives early to a future for one more short glance at a dream that never was.
Hello my name is Rodriquez and this is my sister Catalina. I am almost fifty years old, my sister died young from complications with her heart. It broke after my dad left. My mother struggled alone for years. She made sure i got the best education i could. I am a doctor in a costal town of west Mexico. I am married with three kids, two daughters and a son all healthy and beautiful. I remember this man with light skin pointing this glass object at us while we were playing around in our corridor. I later learned that those glass medal objects were cameras. I began to wonder about the image suddenly stolen from my childhood and how we looked, my dear sister and i.
With unlikely possibility one evening doing online research about heart surgery in Mexico i stumbled across some Mexican images taken by a photographer from Canada. I couldn’t believe my eyes when i saw this black and white and gray image of two children against a textured cement gray wall…..that was me and my dear sister Catalina.
i haven’t contacted the photographer patrick wey yet but someday i will. This is the only image that exists of my sister. i remember when we were young and nothing much mattered.
Unlikely stories from lost dreams.
Image circa 1977 writing yesterday

280 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/30

280 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/30 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
One must walk out on your own, carry your own load. Days’ll be tough, roads long but no ones gonna do it for ya. There’s always another day to work your magic till there’s not. There is always someone carrying a heavier load than yours so help them on their way. There will always be the ones that will criticize any attempt you make in being real, in being simple and honest. Jealousy is inherent in us all to different degrees but yet we continue to ‘point’ with every finger we have to our hearts content and then some. Social media is encouraging the destruction of humanity but there is more to it than that. You’re destroying this earth, this world, you and all your fucking constant manipulations and deceit to ramming your belief systems no matter what they are down the throats of others. You just can’t conceive of a world where everyone accepts that we don’t really know anything for certain and that for centuries you have been played the fool, it has all been fabricated, manufactured, formulated to control this and that, you and them for money and power. That is the simple explanation and of course your mind now is screaming with every breath with just the possibility in knowing that your mind may be totally fucking wrong. And who in the hell am i to suggest this. Well i’m just a guy who has gone to the edge so many times and been up and down so many trails and talked to gods and devils to the trees the waters and all has lead me to a love that thought can not know. The truth is unknowable in this way. You can not bring truth back from the heavens with your mind but you can tell fantastic stories and some of these tales may help others with their burdens, their carts of conclusions and definite abstracts but they must eventually crumble to live free, real and as the super humans we are being drawn towards to be, possibly.
It is all too scary for most so we cling onto the secure cluster of thoughts we call our sacred greed with our god, our creator, our ideals, our science, institutions and authority. Possibly that used to work in a society geographically separated but in this unified world where numerous earth species and human extinction is very real and on our front door step, it is just not acceptable any longer. We all have to question the validity of our very minds and what we with its’ tool of thought ‘reason’ can really be known and what, if anything, can we all believe together as one race, one people. Our beliefs are killing each other, the world and the scared love we all so desperately want to believe exists.
We continue to pull our wagons of truth carry our loads of beliefs thru the streets and avenues hoping to arrive somewhere for good, forever but where do we end up but back here, right back here on the back porch of discontent with an eager uncertain smile beaming out through our front door……….
Possibly the only answer is for…………another day; (brave ventures into the unknown crevices of the mind; psychedelics, isolation tanks, sweats, vision quests, whatever dissolves the ego whereas real truth and love may hold you for a moment or two)
What can i say, my self is on the line, bending, changing with every image.
Image circa 1977, writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0118.tif
Patrick Wey

278 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/28

278 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/28 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
There is so much more that could be said. You think you can get away with a few trips into your head as if time was constant and to be resolved. You are attached to everything, the furthest star is your neighbour the smallest spec a long wave. Every theory you attempted to own, owned you in the end. There was no end, there is no end. A few years ago you were sitting as you are but in a desert night with a cactus as your guide and visions of patterned chaos in control of everything. The jesus you knew transformed into a few creatures before your eyes, and did tricks for you, the dream in a dream of a dream took you beyond yourself. You found no self. You belong to no one. What you thought was real melted into the desert sands. A medicine man appeared from the fire, sang you into a scene, took you places you’ll never remember, taught you to realize nothing really matters but everything has a consequence. Laws evolve, everything is a reflection. Freedom drives consciousness into itself but reason will always be a weak truth.
As i sat there inside of you, i could feel your discomfort with the way things are. You were hoping for things to follow but they didn’t, just when you thought you had it together things changed. These are simply words crashing into one another attempting a dialogue with themselves. They can not go any further than the edge of mind. The vast space is thoughtless and demands you leave yourself at the gate but there is no barrier.
It was a hot day on the Zocalo, i had a few moments alone before my life was to return. I sat there letting the mind go as it did. It is strange how a simple glimpse can take you so far. Who would have ever suspected how vast the mind can travel in a few flashes of our time. Who could have known what had been implanted as i had pondered here in meditation. You, me, future, past,, interwoven for a flash.
circa the Main Zocalo Mexico City 1977 – literature yesterday.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0366.tif
Patrick Wey

275 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/25

275 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/25 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I am a pig and i love this rugged landscape. They call me Jose when they want my attention. I have the freedom to wander wherever i want. Somedays i just sit and look over into the mountains. I watch the lizards roam around in the desert sand, well, i imagine them. Sometimes i feel like another entity, like i shape shifted or something like that, became a coyote for awhile and meandered around the hot sands from one shady nook to the next.
This area used to be more populated a couple hundred years ago, you can still see the old walls melted into the mountain slopes. They named this place Real De Catorce. To this day Huichol medicine people come here to the lowlands at different times of the year to harvest the sacred Peyote cactus. They do ceremonies in the desert evening air and connect with the spirits of their ancestors from here and off into distant lands, even other planets stars and stars away. Occasionally i’ve felt their presence slipping thru my mind but they mostly swim-shift thru to the more wild ones, crows, snakes, eagles, coyotes and such.
I’m totally at home here. It’s less stress, i get fed often enough. Yes my life is cut short but my little ones carry on. It’s all the same to me, i don’t remember much and it’s just the way it is.
Image 1977, writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0330-2.tif
Patrick Wey

274 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/24

274 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/24 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Some say I’m negative, my words depressing. So what. Those are usually the ones that want it all sweet and certain. I use to care but that was yesterday. I don’t attempt to find the negative in this world it just presents itself, there’s plenty of it to go around but that doesn’t depress me and if it does you, well what can i say, put another pretty picture on your wall, i’ve got thousands of um for the right price. You see, i need um too.
I didn’t travel down these roads to get anything in particular, and if i found some good fortune along the trail it was because i stuck to the path, stayed focused on the mission at hand, but most of the time i didn’t evaluate life in those terms. I just wiped any past off as best i could and kept walking. No, it never disappeared completely, death’ll do that but it did allow for a new breeze to blow against this mind while i rambled on.
I don’t have much use for the superficial shit that floats around but i accept it the best i can and no doubt, i have contributed my own fare share. I ain’t no saint and i never said i was and if you think i implied a ‘holier than thou’ attitude, well you’ve been mistaken, i’m just a guy that was looking for something that it appears no one has ever found and i see now, no one ever will. Most lie and want you to believe what they believe, but it’s all made up, a fantasy, a dream. So when i see most people wandering down a similar terrain expecting it all for nothing, no hardship, no desert nights alone with nothing but you and you and you. Well sometimes it makes me laugh and others times it just makes me sick. A lack of compassion some do say, a lack of this or a little of that, whatever, hit the road jack and that does it for me, i’m gone. As i said, i don’t care, shove your face-look social praise where the sun don’t shine. There ain’t anyone i have to please but if a few find my words resemble some thoughts roaming around in their own questioning brains, well then that’s great, reassuring of sorts, but it doesn’t change a thing, just feels a little less lonely in here, i suppose.
The curtain falls and i can feel the next scene supposing itself just beyond some dream on another slippery edge of time. So i better move on, so as to catch the next glimpse of light, when it shows up.
Image circa 1977 but it could have been tomorrow.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0006 (1).tif
Patrick Wey

273 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/23

273 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/23 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Is there anybody listening asked the traveler? Is there any room left on the walls for a little piece of me? You see i’m just like you, i need a name to capture my thoughts upon too. Something to die for, something to hang on to, something to let go of. The hills in the distance are too far, the beach is too hot, the streets too slow for dreaming. A simple breeze skims thru the palms, some birds fly by inside a blue sky. There is so much more somewhere, so many things i could have done, could have been. Here i am mellow and belonging to no-one. A few dreams float by and i catch a glimpse. I let them go, there are others they can catch, still in need of purpose. I am content to hold nothing. I am a simple vessel, one that lives for nothing, cares when i care and one whom holds no ideal to dear.
They appear out of nowhere just in the nick of time, the little ones, the bright ones. When you least expect it, love covers you. Love so free and yet it costs so much. All your dreams, all your conclusions crash away when the waters of mystery sails upon your soul.
Image circa 1976 – writing yesterday

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico
Patrick Wey

272 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/22

272 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/22 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
In the early morning mist stuffing newspapers for a few bucks on the way to the top. You got your dreams and i got mine we’re just different fantasies caught in time. This day is long gone and the news faded into the streets like dying dreams do, into peoples lives, into their souls, into the cracks of their bedroom walls.
It’s hard to imagine just what happened here. Where were they goin when the ads got sandwiched into the rag, when their job was done, where did they end up from the heat and the heart of the metropolis?
The city was barely awake, the all night people were crawling home, traffic polite and sparse, the silent folk were scraping their thoughts together and the avenues rolled into the dawn with a grateful smile while the steady hum of machine slowly wound its routine louder and further along the tar. Alive again, another day with the news headed for the masses, little written words jammed into packets of meaning to get them through the day.
The daily news so yesterday and so over done. The love of life for a few cents and a glass of time. This is life in the city; clean, straight, forward, entertaining on a good day.
Image circa 1977 Mexico City

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0022.tif
Patrick Wey

271 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/21

271 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/21 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Nice to be back in a land where people greet you in the streets. Where there isn’t the typical western paranoia. They are hesitant sometimes unsure of what type of a gringo you might be. Many gringos don’t even look at you so it is obvious why many Mexicans are hesitant to give you their tradition. They feel the vibes, the arrogance, the useless conclusions swimming around northern brains. The age old ‘better than thou’ attitude lingers on like a fool in a sinking trade.
In this town you can still go to the zacalo (town square) on most evenings especially Saturdays and see families, neighbours, young and old intermingle. The whole cross section of the town connects in this square. This is their life, their way, a slow pace long forgotten in the north of the americas.
It is all not so romantic. There is the noice, a different attitude here concerning music everywhere. At least most of it is Mexican style country rather than the pounding drums of rap, bad rock, hip hop and what have you. Accordion, stand up base, acoustic guitar and that’s it, simple and softer.
For the most part you can usually escape the traditional chatter once you find a few hideaways along well worn cobble stone roads with small tiendas and local restaurants of real foods and mothers and daughters holding hands as they stroll thru the evening air. Old men sitting in old broken structures that resemble chairs and kids playing with amigos and genuine waves of love floating around their poverty.
It’s a soft life here….most of the time.
These quaint places are diminishing as more and more western traits capture the youth with the frills of a more modern life. It is a western trend to travel the world these days or you’re a nobody which is another aspect destroying the simple life.
In the end it is mostly your own choice if you want the glamour, the gold, a simple love or the complexities of the modern man.
I can’t do justice to the beauty and the destruction here so i best leave this gentle night to the roosters in the distance and dogs singing their bark.
Image circa 1977

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Mexico | DSC_0036.tif
Patrick Wey

270 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/20

270 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/20 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I don’t know what it all could possibly mean. What reasons are there for the way things are? What matters in the end? What matters in the beginning? What matters in-between? Does anything have to matter or do we just want it that way?
How long do i have to carry this burden? How did it ever get to be this way? How long do i have to be persecuted?
Will they ever learn? Who staged this scenario? Whom is to blame? What certainty do i have to offer? How long will they honour these dreams? It can’t go on forever. I came in and i’m bound to go out. Thought can not get back in behind the gates of eden, it can’t even crawl there. They are doomed to want what they can’t get; to be certain of the uncertain, to dream their lives away.
Reality is just something to be proud about but it doesn’t exist for long.
I suppose i’ll carry this mess for awhile longer, but even illusions become unbearable and have to die.
Image circa 1977

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Mexico | DSC_0030.tif
Patrick Wey

269 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/19

269 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/19 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
She looked straight at me. She knew. She didn’t look thru me. She was calm with what she saw. Her world was understood in a mysterious way. She didn’t need to know what would happen next. She could deal with change like it was a natural thing to do. She didn’t think about all this. Her thoughts were simple and moved along without the burden of a tough dream. She was too young to have been conditioned too strong but the youth in her mind was also of her. A strong young child with a woman in her eyes.
You would think she was looking away, a reflection set on going in a different direction, a parallel dream captured by accident.
This is the way it was, one lens, one frame.
She was moving to the other side with her mind. Her eyes saw something out of view. It’s anybodies guess where things were going or ended up. She could be a fifty year old doctor in Venezuela or a wife with three children on the outskirts of the City, or a drug addict in Pensilvania. She could be a lot of things. We don’t know.
Images can do that to your soul. Take you places that don’t exist. Give you a reason to live, an understanding that makes sense. Old photographs have a way of traveling thru your mind like a movie mostly fiction with just enough reality to make it real.
Image circa 1977

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0008.tif
Patrick Wey

268 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/18

268 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/18 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Man loaded down with bags of hope, buckets of paint for colouring his walls and worn out shoes from long walks through-out the lowlands. Man carries his struggle with a bent back and weary eyes. He knows there’s light at the end of the tunnel, he’s been told so for so many years, it’s written in the scriptures, prophesies have inscribed truth in visions upon his brain. Man has a purpose upon the stairway to heaven, songs have been written in gold, guitar licks have been immortalized.
The sun is sailing west, the crimson flames are wavering in the breeze across the horizons of the seas. I’m a man here from the archives stretching along the avenues, bent around the bends towards a promised paradise. I’m here free chained to the genetics of the future, strolling along the beach in a holiday.
Mexico, the ancient land of remote civilizations sprouting out of the sands along this prehistoric shore. I love this place, it’s magic for the stranded man inside.
Image circa 1977

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0065.tif
Patrick Wey

267 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/17

267 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/17 of-by patrick wey  https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
When you’re a street photographer you have to take some chances. Not everyone wants their photograph taken and you don’t always know that until the shutter has clicked. I have been in a few situations where i was lucky to get out unbeaten. That’s the nature of the career. Today is totally different with so many snapping images from their phones or their larger cameras which makes it easier on the one hand and less unique on the other. This man was not happy about my decision to capture him for some of his own reasons. He’d be gone by now. His story is not known. A broken wrist, an injured arm. Someone knows about him somewhere. We fade into the dust, no matter who we are. Some believe in various shades of afterworlds but those are all theories no matter how much evidence you want to state as proof. Me, it doesn’t really matter what i believe about all that. There is only one thing i could say that might be absolutely certain and that is that it is all ultimately a mystery and there ain’t anything for certain. But as far as certainty goes there are numerous conclusions necessary to get us by for our daily bread. I’m certain i took this picture, i remember that moment and the eerie feeling i got with this look that pierced my soul. Somehow this moment is encoded, somehow but no doubt it is shifting, rearranging the moment, moving into the dust of time also. Life is a paradox, or is it?
Image circa 1977

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0049.tif
Patrick Wey

266 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/16

266 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/16 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The main zocalo square in Mexico City. You can see the historic cathedral in the background where Pope John visited and in fact i managed to photograph him as he passed by in his open vehicle carriage along with shots of the event itself, the people, the frenzy, in that following year. There was always a crazy number of volks-wagon bugs on the smog scented tar of the city streets. I felt quite comfortable in the excitement of the noice and architecture, painted in sounds of spanish floating about. I was young, full of adventure and inquisitive about everything. I carried camera gear wherever i went and felt obligated to document anything i could. I am not sure why, some passion rising up from the heart into the brain and once the mind caught a glimpse of what it could do, i was hooked, had to capture every move this world made. Nothing stood in my way, i would have gone anywhere. I tried to get work for Vogue, Time, National Geographic and would have gotten work for Vogue if i had stayed in Mexico, even National Geographic liked my portfolio especially shots i got of a staging of the crucifixion of Jesus in some little out of the way mountain town later on that year. Definitely there were opportunities in Mexico that i would never have gotten in NYC and believe me, because i tried. The competition was staggering and it is even worse today, i am sure.
I traveled in and out of the neighbourhoods of the city, across the land, the desert, the coast and fell in love with that spanish tainted country. I got a job teaching english downtown in a large institution and smelt the aroma of the cities air for a year.
I married a señorita, not for marriage but to get her into canada, though i thought we’d make a good couple i never conformed to the institution for any confirmation for anything. I don’t need some institution to determine whether i am married or not. I adopted the anti-establishment with a firm understanding of its hypocrisy years before and i wasn’t about to change my stance then or now, for the most part. Rosa is still a close friend and lives in canada but we dismantled the bed years ago.
It takes a certain talent to be a good street photographer, these were my early years, testing the tension of the people on the streets, seeing what i could do, building my love for the many faceted aspects of becoming a photographer, a label, an artist possibly, a writer maybe. That was then.
Image circa 76 or 77

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0259.tif
Patrick Wey

265 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/15

265 Image-Content of the Day 2018/11/15 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
On my way to Mexico at the moment. A place called San Patricio. I believe i was named after it minus the Saint. It’s on the Pacific side and like everyone i am looking forward to the sun, the sand, the water, the salty air and the interaction with the locals. We’re there for a month. Possibly i’ll have more time to upload more images from the archives and also my recent past. A few friends commented that they enjoy my posts with both my comments and images together. I am sure there are many not interested at all and others with mixed thoughts of the thoughts i expose of the inner workings of this brain. I have no ultimate direction other than it is what i do. Writing is a love that sometimes comes easy and often not. Photography is second nature to me now and has been for years but with the advent of half the world as photographers these days, the edge is gone, the uniqueness is common, the science is not necessary and the art is often forgot. Life moves on.
This image was taken on the Gulf of Mexico side around 1977.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0247.tif
Patrick Wey

220 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/01

220 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/01 of-by patrick wey https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Looking out this window here in BC across a valley to a mist hidden mountain of beauty and pondering over times in Mexico 40 years ago. I remember taking this photo in some city along the way, Oxoaco in the south, i believe. I was fascinated with poverty and the poor so obvious and many, unhidden from view, in contrast to in the prosperous streets of the north.
Farmers and peasants forced into cities for a better life that became impossible to find for most. Many ended up in the streets begging for an existence difficult and absurd. There was little choice for most but to keep walking. They were once young with dreams that slowly eroded into a ditch of hard times. They remain; more and more generations have worn out shoes stumbling along these same streets. All across the globe poor souls exist in conditions most people refuse to see. A billion excuses come to mind to alleviate any quilt that may arise. We have more than enough pretty pictures to cover our walls and conclusions and veils to keep us safe, secure and motivated to enlighten our surroundings with a sprinkle of love straight from our wounded hearts.
What is one to do? So much wealth in the hands of a few and so much struggle for the many and a complete hell for far far too many….this is our world of incredible beauty, difficult decisions, denial, false assumptions, insanity, deep sadness, wonder, laughter and what we call love.
A great man once said (Wes Jackson), “if you can’t find any humour in all this you are just not taking it serious enough”.
circa 70’s image, writing yesterday….

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Mexico | DSC_0177.tif
Patrick Wey