365 … i kept my promise

365 Image-Content-Blog of the Day 2019/02/23 of-by patrick wey
https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
ONE YEAR OF ‘IMAGES AND CONTENT OF THE DAY’….I’M DONE
I committed myself to this and kept my promise. Never missed a day. There are so many more but i have another life. At 70 i study 5 to 8 hours a day in a new career. This image/content project took an hour or so a day. I would prefer to do this all the time, ‘images and writing’, books, novels, prose-verse, new image creations but the highway of life has got me behind the wheel once again in search of more fuel driving me down into new territory. Possibly in a few years if i live long enough I will get back to this full time.
I hope you enjoyed some of my work or learnt something about me, the universe, yourself. Nothing is complete cept nothing itself and we’ve thought ourselves out of there. So until later, goodbye for now. I plan on adding an image here and there and focusing on my blog for maybe weekly entries; we shall see.
If Not For You – written by Bob Dylan sung by George Harrison says it best about my feelings for this woman, Sasha…..https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tR21ui1MAQQ
Please, if you enjoyed even one of this years collection, let me know.
Full Collection here: https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
Image circa last year in the mountains of BC with my Cuban hat and the woman in my dreams.
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363 … because i must

363 Image-Content-Blog of the Day 2019/02/21 of-by patrick wey    https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I walk through the low shallow winds of the highways because i must, they cut across my life. I live in the mountains in body and mind where my spirit is safe from western skies. I travel here and there as time permits for most of my past is missing or dead. There was Billy gone long and there was Shiela whom forgot about me; Irene, Phil, Gary, and so many others and lovers, many dead and the rest sailing in and out of sea. That’s the way time travels when you’re young in an old body. The mist still lays across the valley where hope used to live and the alder trees still talk quietly along old faith ridge and occasionally sun glistens over the wild streams of my heart, but time turns regardless and to the ocean it must flow.
Image circa 90’s the Highlands of middle Ireland – writing today
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Patrick Wey