154 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/27

154 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/27 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Man on the streets of Dublin with two different eyes, one looking backwards and one attempting to weave into a future. Just like you and i travelling thru space with one foot on the ground and the other in our dreams. We spend our full live’s orchestrating realities out of thin and thick wind. We think we see what we see even when the weather has shifted. Some catch on quick, some never hear a sound and live in the noice of their minds till there is little or no mind left. There is always enough reason lying around to prove even the most absurd conclusions. People believe what they want to believe, what they are forced to believe, what makes the most sense under the conditions that roof their shelters. We mostly feel the same, we just walk down different roads, roads of love, manufactured and pure, simple and sweet, complicated, discreet.
We exchanged a few pleasant words and looked right into each others eyes. He was weathered and torn, there was no doubt about that, but he didn’t care and neither did i. There was almost a pint of guinness in that nose i thought, and he wore it well as we passed by.
Dublin Ireland in the early 90’s, but it’s been that way forever.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

150 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/23

150 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/23 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Beautiful Sadness’
You ever have one of those days when you feel like you just want to cry yourself off into oblivion? When it doesn’t matter who loves you, how many good times you’ve had, the promises of paradise awaiting within; you just want to be sad, sad to the end. From childhood to old age those days just happen. There is no cure for a melancholy mind. You don’t have to praise the state, embrace it or avoid it. It has its beauty, its horror, its love. It just is.
‘It is a sad and beautiful world’ as said in the 1986 black-and-white independent film written and directed by Jim Jarmusch and starring Tom Waits, John Lurie, and Roberto Benigni. A great classic.
That is where i heard that phrase for the first time and i see it in Sierra’s eyes so long ago so close to my heart. Not everyone has the fortune of feeling such a feeling to such a depth. Our society prefers to smother reality with ‘happy’ everywhere and avoid this wonderful sad aspect of being human. This avoidance can create worse unnatural conditions leading to dependence on psychiatric substances that in the long run cause much more harm than good. It’s everywhere.
This is an amazing book describing this problem in detail…https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anatomy_of_an_Epidemic
Anatomy of an Epidemic: Magic Bullets, Psychiatric Drugs, and the Astonishing Rise of Mental Illness in America is a book by Robert Whitaker published in 2010 by Crown.
In April 2011, Investigative Reporters and Editors (IRE) announced that the book had won its award as the best investigative journalism book of 2010 stating, “this book provides an in-depth exploration of medical studies and science and intersperses compelling anecdotal examples. In the end, Whitaker rejects the conventional wisdom of treatment of mental illness with drugs.”
Sierra was a year or so old here, early 90’s. Taken thru a screen window at a cottage in Algonquin Park, Ontario. She was very sad for some reason staring out at the trees and gray skies. She appeared content with this feeling. I knew this was a great expressive shot when i snapped it and now here it is 25 years later. She’s been gone three years now and i often have a very similar expression when i’m alone inside floating around in memories of her.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

149 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/22

149 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/22 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
The Harp Angel of Ireland…Mairead Kelly
I first met Mairead while she was playing her harp in the streets of Cork Ireland in the mid 90’s. We became friends, i photographed her husbands band for promo shots, had dinner with the family and one day we wandered along the cliffs near Bally Cotton for an interesting backdrop for some timeless images. We have kept in touch via facebook. Would be lovely to revisit the cliffs today and i suppose i have, if only in my dreams. I spent many moments walking along these cliffs over looking the Emerald Sea towards Wales soothing my melancholy moods. Sometimes when days are tough, one just wants to die into eternity with such dreams.
Mairead encompassed the epitome of the Irish damsel of the cliffs of heather and grasses of the romantic turquoise emerald sea shoreline. Her harp her wings. Her beauty her beauty.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

148 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/21

148 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/21 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Another Water Colour by Mother Gaia
I am simply a documentary photographer collecting natural impressions produced solely by the water on this earth without any photographic manipulations. A technique that i have been doing now for about 35 years. They never cease to impress me with the billions of possibilities and incredible texture and colour. I have a large collection of trees if i ever get around to sharing them on my site. This is one taken in the last year on the Island of Vancouver here in BC.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

145 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/18

145 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/18 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day\
A mixture of lit past caught in a realm of space. Time sits quietly in the walls. The story is folding over itself, myths are emanating from the mood, a texture of love is diminishing in the corners, worlds are falling all around, everything is concealed. The statute takes the lead, the dance begins again.
Vern knows..
Circa 90’s….gallery of the infinite….( Vernon Harper )

 
 
Vern Harper and Statue

Image and Writing by patrick wey

144 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/17

144 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/17 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I am there, P4W, Prison for Women, Kingston On. In the early 90’s there was only one federal prison in Canada which meant any women serving a federal crime had to serve her time in Kingston Ontario. This caused great grieve for many women whom came from poor families across the nation and because of economics, never had a visit for years, if ever. That is not to mention the severity for crimes committed by the poor from undesirable backgrounds with racist treatments for people of colour, blacks, browns, reds and women were mistreated the worst. The women of the land, native, anishinabi, native american women were at the end of the end. There are many unreasonable reasons why the native has been persecuted so insanely and especially the women. Far too complicated to explain here but one thing that can be noted is that people all suffer for different reasons and the truth of the nature is that we all are so incredibly similar regardless of race colour sex and age.
This shot was taken by one of the inmates with my camera. I was becoming a common figure as i was returning so often, as an elders helper (Vern Harper), that some were getting to know me and trust me beyond the shield of white and male. I was simply myself, it always has seemed insane to stumble first thru a veil of colour, as if that has any real significance before relating to another human being. Yes i know, it is much more complicated, but one must attempt to see clear thru skin.
Many american natives, possibly even more so then american blacks are very leery of the white man and easily understood but i don’t bother with that realm unless i am confronted with a situation that i need to address. Otherwise, i just live life and do the best i can to respect, love and care for all people and all things.
There is so much more that could be and should be stated here about what sits behind in this photo, the earth altar, the sweat prayer lodge, the prison, the world and the mystery everywhere. Besides all the torture existing surrounding there was a great sense of humour at times in the air between the minds of the sisterhood of mostly native but not all. Anyone with a true heart could find a way into the way of the red road, sometimes it would simply find you….if you were listening.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

142 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/15

142 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/15 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
“I see clear like you do when you’re alone full of emptiness and spread out like things are when they are separate from each other in a way that keeps them apart. When you feel like nothing it is different than being in nothingness. Life takes one on many trips thru the mind that can never be duplicated, retraced completely, but we know a few things we know as certain here in the consciousness of bird brain. Love is just a word in the mind but love is also what binds it all together, one might call it the tao. The way is the road in the tao, love is the substance that beholds mystery; the knowing where thought can not go is where it is at. I am just a crow you say; of course you would!”
Rosetta – circa early 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

141 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/14

141 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/14 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
An example of one of my Virtual Graffiti pieces.Yes, i added John to the image and made it look a part of the existing doorway graffiti.
John says, “i don’t believe in”, just about anything, and “imagine no religion too, i wonder if you can”, he also said, “it’s a love that last forever, it’s a love that has no past”, he once said, “you’re all just fucking peasants as far as i can see, if you wanna be a hero, well just follow me’ and “all you need is love, love is all you need” john said a lot of things, he is remembered by so many in so many ways; “There ain’t no guru who can see through your eyes”, “But then again, you’re not to blame.
You’re just a human, a victim of the insane.”, “Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall. I’d love to turn you on”, “Come together right now over me”………..Thanks John, you helped to verify conclusions i also stumbled upon; and your melodies and your voice; wow.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

140 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/13

140 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/13 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘behind the walls lie the answers
on the surface the dream
you must pick one or the other
but neither are as they seem’
I have a large collection of graffiti which i have yet to post on my site. I also produced numerous virtual graffiti pieces which are part reality and part my composition created with the help of photoshop with my own images and others to enhance and create a new concept. There is a fascination with graffiti for many reasons. The history spans thousands of years and it has had many applications. Wikipedia elaborates – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graffiti

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

139 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/12

139 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/12 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
A train of thought, soft in the mind
All those things left behind
Things built with tender time
Things rolling on down the line
Some trains are lame, some sane, some from the heart and some from the brain.
The mellow moods one gets pondering over life and its changes when one lets ones thoughts just curve around the bend just like that train does when it rolls past and diminishes into the invisible horizon. Life is so many things, so many judgements, conclusions, so many trains of thought pulling into the station, letting people on, letting people off, befriending, making enemies, holding on, letting go; trains of thought of every hue come and go into the space of the station. Some change stations, some never leave, some move on continuously down the line. A train is a train is a train…some are full, some are empty, some crash, some are at peace but they all leave the station and fade into the long horizon of the great divide someday.
Circa 80’s, model – someone Lindsay Stewart knew, i believe or wanted to know, can’t recall correctly……my train pulled outa that station centuries ago.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

137 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/10

137 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/10 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Madness on the corner, uncertainty in the street
turmoil in the dream world
where umbrellas try to sleep.
and with all there is, joey’s on the move
classified time left behind in litter bins
truth splattered in the streets.
…..words hardly begun untitled sifted like a scene
can’t determine what’s going on
where you’re going
or where you’ve been…..
circa: america facing forward dragging along phantoms

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

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

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

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
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

#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