In to the West

(somewhere in the camino... )

To know me a bit better… see the Sun rising in the West.

As we follow towards Finisterra – towards the “Costa da Morte” – Death’s Coast – we walked all we could…
We laughed and we cried…
We gave and we took…

We were bright and we dived in the shades…

We gave hope and we took it… we searched for love and love found us…

To know me is to know my work as well – for me – it reflects a bit of this “Camino of life”…

So here it is – under Tolkien’s light…
With some pictures of Today's work…

"In to the West" - Annie Lennox - "The Return of the king"

Lay down, your sweet and weary head.
Night is falling.
You have come to journey’s end.

(There was a little faerie there in the mid right... say that to our friends of camino of life... those little ones will love it)

Sleep now,and dream of the ones who came before.
They are calling,
from across the distant shore.

(the mother was taking a picture while this premature baby - Sílvia - was being nursed under the tender look of Sara - her sister)

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see.
All of your fears will pass away.
Safe in my arms,
you’re only sleeping.

(she's still - in my arms - only sleeping... do we see the difference in the end? Do we see the difference in our hearts? the same baby's essence on a different shell - when will we learn to the important more than the illusion?)

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

(the ships have come to free you from the net... to unravel your light and carry you away... as I walk during lunch time I feel how differences are in the mind... how must see the heart... how all beings melt in to one... on that river... over those grey boats... free from the nets of time)

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
All souls pass.

(a light on the water we passed... when someone pulled us out... now I see no bridge to pass to the other side... Ágape pontifex maximum)

Hope fades,
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time.

(as I enter in my room, while the clock ticks the time to get back, I look at the memories that fight to keep you alive - a scarf with the scent of Life, Post Cards of a Distant Journey, a Guitar that tries to Sing to keep hope alive... a window that points - In to the West)

Don’t say,
We have come now to the end.
White shores are calling.
You and I will meet again.
And you’ll be here in my arms,
Just sleeping.

(he will return... to the Hospital; again a mother taking a picture of her Child who's in my arms... will you return? And - how much of me departs each time you go away? How much?... But - in this here and now - the three of us smile to each other)

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

(when all the threads of this life unravel, we will get to the grey ships which will carry us away... over the waters of the river of life, towards the sea of existence... how many times, how many knots... how long will this circle run around itself? This I think as I stumble towards home again)

And all will turn, to silver glass.
A light on the water.
Grey ships pass
Into the West.

(as the day fades and hope lingers, I look through that window of future, trying to find out some glince of light that gives meaning and sense to this circle of life)

Here is a day of work and the thoughts or feelings that wonder around… inside me. The pictures show how I see things – in a semi poetic, semi melancholic, semi festival way – this circle of life we travel, this camino we repeat once after another…

Be blessed…

(mural painting of group of pilgrims fading in the mists... you wanted to depict the mother leading the child... here it is)