133 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/06

133 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/06 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Now the wintertime is coming
The windows are filled with frost
I went to tell everybody
But I could not get it across’ – B Dylan
From, “It Takes A Lot To Laugh It Takes A Train To Cry”
HEAT WAVE – how many hot BTUs get hurled into the atmosphere with the invention of the conventional ‘air conditioner’…..truly makes this unpopular revelation make sense, “damned if you do, dead if you don’t”…….image of walking on wintertime earthscape.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

131 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/04

131 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/04 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Happy Birthday Emerica…..Let’s Fake America Great – Again & Again!….You haven’t changed america, when will you grow up, when will you give the freedom you promised; america, is there anybody listening……

America
BY ALLEN GINSBERG….Berkeley, January 17, 1956

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia.
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable private literature that jetplanes 1400 miles an hour and twentyfive-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his automobiles more so they’re all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother Bloor the Silk-strikers’ Ewig-Weibliche made me cry I once saw the Yiddish orator Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have been a spy.
America you don’t really want to go to war.
America its them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

Berkeley, January 17, 1956

Allen, i could rewrite a few words here and there but what’s the point if they never got it then they sure as hell won’t get it now. america, emerica, hollyworld, war, here there everywhere…….there is a good side tooooo, get on, be on, stay on.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

130 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/03

130 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/03 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
David Finlay was a very close friend for a short period of time and as time does, it twists things this way and that. We shared many intense moments down at the Station concurring about the secret societies that govern so much around us behind the scenes right there in front of us. I hear about Dave occasionally off echoes of corridors swinging around from the people and mediums i encounter. As with life in the past, there are always things you wish you had said that you didn’t, expressions to show just how much those moments meant, feelings that transform into shadows, hide in the dust, but they’re there and with a simple flick of the wrist they can reappear but all too often there is nothing but an empty hall way and aging photographs hanging between the doorways to anew. I loved you man, bring on the roads restless and still and let the winds blow. circa late 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

129 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/02

129 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/02 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Connie and Wayne Schell back in the day when the 60’s movement blew towards the country and a simpler way of life. Of course simple never stayed simple but there were years of good love for a few. Back to the land, looking back seems so far so close so far. I see a few styrofoam cups with a few plants soon to be legal sitting lonely on the window sill. Geeze it took such a long time, half the hippies are dead now and many served time in prisons all over the planet that cost the world trillions and lots of suffering for mostly the poorer on this earth. Now big business has there claws in like money smelling tycoons do and all will be as it is. Connie sewing something and Wayne thinking about something and me writing something for nothing. By the way that is an ancient sewing-machine for the new comers. Hi Wayne, hi Connie.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

127 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/30

127 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/30 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Vernon Harper standing in front of a store entrance reflecting a sunny side of Queen St. W. near Spadina Ave. Toronto of a shop called Red or Dead. Vern was a great actor, seldom did i suggest much other than a location and he would just take a pose or two and i never wasted time. I seldom let people wait uncomfortably while i grabbed a few images. I usually had the composition worked out and moved into a few angles with a variety of lens lengths and occasionally added some colour shots from a second camera; but all quick, not to have the subject feel uncomfortable, awkward and throw on strange expressions. It’s got to be natural for these portraits to portray something that laymen’s words seldom express….possibly a poets words can shape a Picasso like angle across the terrain but it is still not a pure comparison for a great portrait, just different.
Vern was proud to be Red, but it goes much, much deeper than that. The reflection of the city was always behind Vern, his walk was focused forward into a red horizon.
circa 1990’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

126 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/29

126 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/29 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
When i was practising model photography Leslie Zawadzki‘s mother lent me herself as a subject. I thought she was a natural. I remember super imposing this onto a beautiful long exposure sea shore from Mexico; the old way in the darkroom. Another lost art. The digital revolution eliminated so many art forms in its wake. This is progress reguardless of our intent. It has allowed so many new forms of art an easier entrance into reality but has also opened the door to more mediocrity. As they say ‘beauty is in the eyes of the beholder’…. but they say a lot of things! That original image of a super imposition attempt is floating around here somewhere. If i ever find it i’ll post it.
Ted Zawadzki, hey, show this to Marianne….circa 1977 or so.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

125 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/28

125 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/28 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
This is a pretty picture hanging on our wall here in BC. It is printed onto pexi-glass so has a real sheen to it. The original is a puddle shot somewhat enhanced in photoshop.
Trees and blue skies of simple complexities
weaving the world round
and magic entangled within realities
as silence within sound

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

122 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/25

122 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/25 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
This guy Bob Arnold, was infamous for causing a lot of mischief for a few of us that knew him. He went down with the Station Hotel a few years before it burned to the ground. This shot is in the American hotel, king and queen Kitchener. Bob died somewhere around 20 years ago so we won’t say much. A smart guy but devious like some truth is. Those were the days wasted getting wasted, a foolish thing for the most part but you can learn from the bad as well as you can from the good if you’re paying attention. All in all it is what it was. I always had my handy Minox with me to capture scenes of realities no matter what or where they were; it felt like some sort of mission and as honourable or useless that it was, here are some of the remains of one mans life thru the tunnels of time of the late 20th and early 21st century….of course now everyone plays the game of image-stealing with their handy phones but they didn’t exist in these times..lol, as is said in the new medium growing older in every image….that’s me off to the side….circa late 80s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

121 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/24

121 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/24 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
On the edge of Arizona by the California border at a huge trailer park the size of a small town. Similar to a burning-man event but not quite as extreme. Loads of strange people from all the hippy, bohemian corners of america. I wandered about there, i believe with my friend Helmut, Mike Kleinwhom lives in Southern California but travelled here to spend a few days in my volkswagen westfalia camper van with me.
I was travellin in the south west simply for the fun of it, avoiding the canadian winter and visiting a few friends spread out in the southwest. This guy was just a friendly dude allowing me to capture his soul for a few decades….circa early 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

120 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/23

120 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/23 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
St Patrick reincarnated into a lonely pagan cow wandering in the heather and hay off the moorland cliffs of Bally Cotton along the coast of the emerald sea of Ireland. I lived just a few kilometres down the narrow stone fenced road for a while, once upon a time. I conducted a sweat lodge weekly where as many of the new pagans of Ireland gravitated and a few became regulars and friends. Ireland may be known for green Guinness and a lack of snakes by many, but not by me. Ireland is certainly a magical land and i lived a magical time for the short year remembered.
I was a lot closer than it looks to this infamous saint with my 20mm lens on one of my 35mm Nikon cameras, a very few feet at best…she was full of milk and lovely…..circa 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

119 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/22

119 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/22 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Travelling back to my apartment in Mexico city from Fortin De La Flores, a small town a couple hundred kilometres east of the city where the family of my wife to be Rosa lived. At one point along the windy road i encountered traffic backed up for miles but eventually managed to get close to this sad event of a train wreck. This is one of the many photographs that emerged. The news was all over the front page of the Mexico City newspaper the next day. I believe two engines collided head on and numerous people had died. Living in the big city of 30 million was an extraordinary experience filled with adventure every minute. Dangerous and pleasant moments existed close by as with the extreme poor living beside the privileged rich, sometimes technologies and situations were held together with coat hangers, literally. Sometimes it would do the job, sometimes it didn’t. Not to imply this was the case here.
If i would have submitted this image they would have used it; their photograph was well after the smoke had lifted, silent and still. Another opportunity missed in my estranged career. Circa 1976 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort%C3%ADn_de_las_Flores

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Patrick Wey

118 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/21

118 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/21 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The window sees thru the wall….Eyes meet,
Down by the edge of a down town and a second millennium, in his flannel trousers and a head full of pain he headed in the wrong direction. His name was hard to find and his looks were likewise. The wet from the sweat drenched his heart but it still wasn’t enough to keep the demons away; times took him were he was told not to enter, those crazy places that one has already left.
In another part of a town and the world, she lifted her head to a soft wind, gentle hair black against a night and her shoulders, she let go a gaze that pierced his heart.
The night brushes against the brick, footsteps lay across the valley’s like lead. In a miracle someone catches a glimpse in a red road of dust upon his heals, and he turns up in the ceremony, and someone says, ” hey cowboy, is that red around your throat”, and stretches off into the distance backwards.
She sees the brick laced in night and yellow faces crowded in sacred places, quiet hiding across terrains of mad beliefs and terrible sadness; the silence enters her web like the brick.
His voice is gentle as it reaches a window on the silver side of town, ” that’s the way to the other side”, down towns blocked with heavens from a black book on the edge of dawn.
When he awakes she’s dreamin he’s leavin, comin soon, and carries water from a secret well in flesh of silk and satin and draws him to her breast.
The day spreads itself out like time does when it’s twisted around a bend. From the corners of hallucinations to transparent-dust-forming-dreams, sacred air from the other side, the neons dangle off the brick.
On the trail his mouth is on fire, “Hey cowboy, you comin out here”, the tracks are torn of grime and greed, the shadow of the nite, she whispers in some ancient lore,”(rush of wind a half an earth apart)”.
On the street to ecstasy under construction, signs rustling in the wind, crows cawing over splattered glass, the pavement livin the life in the underground, the kid shufflin thru a long turn out.
In the backwoods by the turn of a century some magic tree is walking towards them, ” you will meet again, this earth is your saviour”, the wind clutches clouds, hurls rain, time and them far apart. Destiny plays fate to the crow, black hair in sea-wind blowing thru space where time is dead, truth laid out like the brick spread out against the alley.
The scent of her golden skin, from the glow of a million moons, whispers in the silence of the earth beneath his feet. Patience falls soft in a gentle rain, two crows sit huddled in a tree blowing across a horizon in a dream.
The day cracks open and the trail reaches out towards the other side. In the room there is new furniture from another piece of history. The window sees thru the wall. The love once so soft hard against the brick dangles medicine from its neck. In the end sage brush smiles to the wind, the sea is wild inside calm upon the earth and two strangers touch.
There is another day waiting in the streets, from Shanghai, New York is sinking and the drum is rolling across the plains. He speaks into the machine, her keypad stretches across the wire but the link is dead.
In an afternoon across the street by the edge of the park, sun glistening off the air, their eyes meet between light years and a million worlds.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

117 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/20

117 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/20 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I spent a month in Puerto Vallarta area in late November and early December of 2017.
I collected a few images mostly puddle shots and wrote pages of text about my existence here on this earth. Images and text to be found here…. http://patrickwey.com/…/in-mexico-gathering-excerpts-gone-b…
Excerpts of Excerpts:
– Everybody’s life is a story but few ever get told. Even when they are told they can never really hit the depth of the experiences that had taken place. I don’t believe in so called non-fiction, i can hardly take anyone serious when i am face to face, anymore than i take myself very serious. Everybody’s life is partly truth and partly fiction, and i get it, lets not quibble about semantics.
– Here, later in the night in my mexican hotel room off in an old neighbourhood and things are clear…….
– The morning is here. The sleep was peaceful and i feel rested and ready for another day upon this earth. I meditate as i walk, as i sit, as i eat, as i observe what is before me. I have no method other than to eliminate any method that may be found. Everything does exactly what everything needs to do.
– – Yes, so you find numerous contradictions here, well, you’re right, there is no thought that can exist without ultimately slipping into contradiction and oblivion. That is why people fear death, fear psychedelics, fear silence, fear any process that disintegrates their belief system, their personality, character, but certainly when death comes a knocking it will surely do exactly that. You can get prepared or not, it doesn’t matter. Enjoy life the best you can, help others when they need a hand, be gentle and let the mystery move you and to be your only faith.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

116 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/19

116 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/19 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I look out everyday at the same people from my small market space here on spadina. I have no choice. I miss my home, my village, my people, my dreams. They said it would be better here. I only remember the feelings of being where i belonged; i don’t feel that here. I walk my chinese down these streets, work all day and sleep restless nights. I do my best to pray my way and to help where i can but my eyes are drained, my love is routine, my praise is weak; the world is gray. I see my children’s children look out onto these same streets and see something, something not quite right. They feel it in their soul, their hearts will break; my love must be strong, carry on, do what i can.
They said it would be better here; i suppose it is….circa – 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

115 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/18

 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Sierra’s cousin James Bernier, the son of Lovely Rita….I knew him when he was young, a real boy character, mischievous but respectful; often wondered how this world wrapped itself around him…..caught that shot just before he was about to do something exciting, but exactly what that was, i don’t know. circa late 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

114 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/17

114 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/17 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Today this little girl, Sierra, would be wishing me a Good Fathers Day, but she won’t be. So, though yesterday on my birthday was mostly happy, today may not live up there all day. Life is living with reality as best as one can, to accept what you can and be grateful for life itself and keep moving on. Today is Vernon Harper‘s birthday he was a rat gemini as myself and he will be missed especially today, being it is Fathers day and since he passed on so recently. Lots of thoughts travel his way today, he was a father of many of his blood and many extended sons and daughters also. So for all those missing a father or a child today, many moments of no words and silence of the heart, where forgiveness and gratefulness reign…..image circa 92 ish

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

113 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/16

113 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/16 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Today marks 70 years of childhood…yup, this naked ape with a bunch of names entered into the 7th decade of life on this planet – as a guest. He never wanted to grow up, hell i don’t even know what that really means….so i didn’t, kept my ‘forever young’ well protected from all the boxes and boxes of repetition, deceit, absolute moronic nature of sheep, responsibilities to institutions and all that fuckedupshit……hey i’m just kidding, i’ve become a very reliable mature adult for the most part; i just don’t take it all that serious most of the time, all that religious political scientific trap is all irrelevant down here ‘where nothing is real, nothing to get hung about’, happy birthday me….and though i don’t enter the news wall of the facelook any longer for a while yet, i still throw in an image/content of the day…..just because…..and thanks to all my friends wherever you are whatever you do, we are all really quite similar when the facades fade, kids at heart in aging bodies. If it weren’t for all the wars in the brain because you believe in that and i believe in this, we’d all be just wild animals living free in reality inside the gates of the garden where strawberries stay ripe in fields forever. Happy Birthday everyone…… happy birthday apeman pat!…….Sasha and i are going to have a lovely day with a few friends in the west coast wind. Everybody’s welcome….really, i never thought i’d ever make it this far down the line, it’s all so sureal, mellow-like….thanks again life and dear friends……a selfie with my friend Sukatu

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

112 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/15

112 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/15 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘The Pink Car Door’, isn’t it strange how so many titles to art work simply state the obvious, how about ‘Mud on Pink’, or ‘Love Wanted’, or ‘The Oval Way’, or ‘Man and Mud Collaboration’ or the easy way out, ‘Untitled’.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

110 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/13

110 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/13 of-byhttps://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The old and the new in a harmonious conflict with horse and horse-power at odds in the streets, with one way of the many-horses heading who knows where and the other wanting to ponder for a longer while in a more simplistic proven method of field and barn. This mennonite woman in her cool sun glasses shops the downtown of KW on a lazy Tuesday Afternoon with her Moody Blu

See More

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

108 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/11

108 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/11 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Kachina Doll Blessing the Desert Earth………..this Spirit Symbol was specifically made for Sierra a year or so after she was born, by a medicine man on the hopi reserve in Arizona. I had never heard of such an object when i named Sierra, ‘Kachina’. Sometimes things happen with continuity way beyond our imagination, maybe always….. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hopi_Kachina_figure ….i took this image on the way home from the Arizona desert lands surrounding the Second Mesa of the Hopi Nation early 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

107 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/10

107 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/10 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
SIerra Kachina – In honour of her life that ended three years ago today at 24 years of age. This shot was Sierra so happy and proud of her new baby sister Baylee Nguyen only a few minutes old, that seemed to take forever to come out of her mothers womb, she thought. There are too many thoughts that emerge to consider writing much at all today, so i say no more and that says it all…. Sierra was five in this image.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

106 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/09

106 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/09 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
SIerra Kachina has been gone three years now. There is nothing i can say here about that. I miss her. I had loved her more than life itself. She was a true unique spirit, a revolutionary here.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

Words about Sierra:

Writing words you will never see
editing pictures you never saw
killing dreams we never met
living around lies tangled up around us yet
crying alone into fading memories
a busy numbness surrounding often
and you and me ending again
this time forever ending within
i see this thru vague scenes
that crumble into one another
drenched in pain and love
as they move along the trail
with a crippled weakness into the day
and words to you i will never say
i write to no one but the stream
of endless dreams across the purple sky
the universe that comes in clear
the universe that closes when the dream ends

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Without You Sierra
sometimes it tears tenderly to my heart
sadness where it has never gone, goes.
a year passing without you
your little heart and mine
twisted into each other like time
i gaze across the highway to the grassy fields beyond
the silent wind bends around invisible canyons
straight into my mind
your essence emanates soft and deep into me
with dry tears i caress the moments slipping by
there will never be anyone so true to me as you
our bond was woven by the mystery of love
no one can alter what was so clear
that alone gives a graceful comfort
this pure sadness against my path
your delicate sense breathes life into death
i need no promises, commitments, no proof
we knew we were special
a love so rare so true so threatening
we lived thru this with the most fragile of hearts
now thru this fading silence
with nothing but the humble caring of the wind
i love you with your tears upon me
nothing can harm you now
you are safe from this world
and all its misery
i am seeing this with my hidden pain
as i walk on without you….

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There are few words left to say
i know in my heart there are no ears of yours to hear
what can never be said to you ever
you’re gone and love feels so empty without you
i have learned that this world is even more cruel than imagined
fake everything lures everybody into so much of little worth
they have little room for real tears
no time for true sadness
only shallow laughter and smiles against the rain
ultimately they are afraid to face their own mortality
they need to blanked it with tender wit, swift gestures
hidden desires leading secure beliefs to selfish love
They are the lost children of the american dream
stretching across every continent
desperately hanging onto every note from the popular song
caressing comfort with their broken bodies
falling alone down into cancerous heavens
to worlds they could never be
They are my brothers, my sisters, my friends and my foe
they are the celebrities cared for more than neighbours
more than the blood across the land
more than the mother in the land
the father of the other hand
the truth scattered into words
blasted against the walls of your brains
and in this context everyone is to blame
the dilemma of the human insane

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In this beauty one must weep. The overwhelming understanding of pain from loss is so sad it is beyond comprehension. It goes so deep one can only cry tears from memories dying and the letting go of its truth, its reality. Admitting that it is hard to live life one must let go of the dearest feelings; all the tangled ones and all the gentle and soft ones. It is hard to see this in the air, all the clusters of memories contained in one soul and spread out across the minds of the people. The close ones the distant ones the collective ones, all of different quantities and depth, moving in and around as a dream does.
When one dies and the entanglement of thought-energy floats thru the atmosphere as a spirit would, the visions of these holographic scenes may be more real than a normal reality appears. This is pure vision with no interpretation from a past, a future, just the endless flow from one scene to the next. The magnitude of this impression is life altering.
You can feel the waves of peoples thoughts and dreams, with their spirits creating intricate delicate holographs of varied scenes floating thru the forests along creeks veins like an epiphany from ‘nature’, the creator of all known. I cried, knowing i had to let go to live. It will come in small doses, not as to destroy me, little by little till i carry on alone. This may never happen. This is the dream, the dream will change, the observer will be altered, vast death is the nature of all this. It will come regardless of what one does. It is this movement in life that sees this death and the illusions of dreams as necessary branches to this tree, as life is a dilemma.
————————————————————————————————————————————————————
the days go by and you fade beyond my will
every step another distance without you
memories slip in and out of the air surrounding here
some are peaceful and serene and others are dark and deep
when the pains you felt, lived through and died with
punctures my heart like a knife with tears
the road curves up ahead and your presence is near
there in the pale afternoon where your love lies
and the sunset full of your colour
there are the photographs and your remnants scattered about
there are memories hanging on the walls without you
you meant everything to a few left behind
and they struggle down the path alone
and there is no answer fit
to why you left the way you did
no conclusions can soothe this heart
it is what it is and love and you are one
there is nothing along the cove
to replace this shore on eternity
memories will continue their journey across the universe
and fade into the void beyond
but for now there is nothing left
just you caressing this heart
and a spirit feeling this

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

my heart aches for you
your simple smile your delicate wit
your ways and your life living
i miss you terribly so
i am so sorry i did not do enough to save you
to help you in any way i could
to share everything i have with you
i never expected it would end so quick
what a fool i was in moments i could have done more
could have poured my heart unto you
given my every touch of love
i am so sorry, forgive me
nothing i can do now for you
i am lost at moments crushed with pain
devastated to my very being
like a boat without water
and a soul with out life
i am alone lost and numb

i see the road the way and the things to be done
i walk with one foot in the desert and the other on unknown land
i am a man stranded with no home no future no dream
i remember your breath searching for air and your heart for warmth
i walk i walk i keep walking
there are moments joy slips by and noise ceases
there are those that say too much and those that can’t listen
the ones with ideals overloaded and the ones crawling down the avenue
i miss your presence, the weight in your eyes
the truth your lips concealed
i miss you, your simple love
i miss you

i can never be free from you
you are a part of me
some of you is inside of me
and i shall die like that
you and me are a memory
that will be as long as forever is

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

little angel up-against the tomb
on a road red as heart
spirit fallen from the sky
with no clear answer why
and with tombstone tears
a wounded kachina cries
“for simple love i live and die”.

“i’ was much, much too young to die”
————————————————————————————————————

I wish i could say what can’t be said
and do what can’t be done
i wish i could do magic
and bring back what’s gone

i am loosing the words to say much or anything at all
now is not the time to

we all want to know what can’t be known
it is the nature of thought
we all want things we can’t get
we all want teachings that can’t be taught

there is no easy way
to heal a wounded heart

you can fly high and dig low
you can tell yourself sweet little lies
you can tear yourself apart
with things you wish you’d done
but there is only one thing that can really help
hidden deep within the heart

—————————————————————————————————

103 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/06

103 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/06 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Annie Toman‘s niece…Ali Sage….we did a photo shoot in a graveyard for old cars that are now even much older than then, and she is too, somewhat i presume……The few acres of old cars were sold to some wrecker in the states i heard; long gone now……in Ayr On. late 70’s i think.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#100 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/03

#100 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/03 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I picked this shot to celebrate my ‘100th image/content of the day’ because these are the real un-named heroes of my collection. The ones in the streets with stories few have ears to hear. This guy hung around Kensington Market Toronto. He felt honoured to be a subject of my interest, at any rate, friendly and conducive to my swift professionalism. I don’t take long to grab a shot. I like to capture the essence as best as i can. He was crouched down so i did to and without hesitation flicked the shutter three or four times. I was prepared, i knew the shutter speed, Fstop for the conditions surrounding; no time to adjust gods main light, or rearrange the subject. You have to get what you can get with tools and material available.
I saw him numerous times and though i don’t know his real story; i felt he was an intelligent man that fell into some bad luck a little too deep to comfortably emerge from. We said a few words, i gave him some change and i parted. He didn’t want my pity and i didn’t give him any.

#97 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/31

#97 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/31 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Mel Brown husband of Angel Brown…..and certainly a Blues legend from KW to Texas….Leonardo Valvassori played base in Mel Brown and The Homewreckers… wikipedia article states the numerous people he played with….WOW…. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mel_Brown_(guitarist)…me and Mel went for a stroll one afternoon to take a few shots for some tabloid from town that i can’t remember the name of. I think it was on the front page. Everything turns into memory then fades away.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#96 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/30

#96 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/30 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Pride Parade Toronto Circa 1990…A number of my images were published in a Scholarly Book Entitled ‘Queer’ from this event. I had the book but left it in Ontario with tons of other stuff when i downsized and moved out west. Some friends consider me weird but that is not the same as being queer. In the sixties when someone was called straight it meant ‘not hip’ (didn’t smoke weed), that changed with the times also. Now i tend to think everyone is somewhat peculiar, possibly queer, mostly straight and definitely weird.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#45 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/09

#45 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/09 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
It is amazing how plus 4 degree celsius dew water sits extremely energized on the tips of early morning grass defying gravity. This simple/complex understanding of water could change all of our energy and many of our social issues if only people really wanted to live. It appears that most of us simply want to believe in anything/something that gives comfort, security and happiness. Unfortunately reality demands other attributes. We carry on trusting people that have absolutely no clue or ulterior motives. Viktor Schauberger died a broken man, he also gave the world an understanding of a technology that would save us from our destruction of the earth. A micro percent of humanity has listened but very few have understood and the controlling resistance from the top has destroyed a few hundred years of advancement. Possibly we, along with many species are doomed, possibly not. ‘Implosion Biotechnology’, the natural life-giving-energy-creator of a water planet. Image created when waternature.org was formed – circa 15 years ago.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#26 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/21

#26 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/21 of-by http:www.patrickwey.com
This is one of my latest ‘puddle images’. A series of west coast tree and rock water-colour-paintings by Mother Gaia. These are completely non manipulated images. Anybody could see these if you walked around upside down or reversed images in your brain as i do constantly. This takes the pallet of documentary photography impressionism onto a new surface high. Please react before the sun goes down….

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM