Universally spoken.

There are some truths that I believe are universally spoken. Some facts that cannot be questioned. Some theories that may never have answers. Yet they remain. Etched into our lives, into the very fabric of our existence, stories and feelings that cannot be untold or undone. How do you know a good friend from a bad one? How does love feel? If it was a flavor, what would it taste like? Is there a God, an almighty being that has made heaven and earth for His children. Is faith something that can be explained, or something that is simple being followed? Is the innocence of youth still as sacred as it used to be? Why is the sky blue? Why do thunder and lightning compete for attention? What is courage really?

Okay, the sky is blue because it is the less blah blah blah of the colour spectrum, the sun shines blah blah blah, there’s the answer. Why is the sky blue, cause it is! Nature tells us so!

Is a good friend the one who is there when you go out, the one who is buying you shooters and getting you plastered, or is it the friend that will push their problems aside and rush to your aid when you need them? Is it a combination of both? I was watching a Tyler Perry movie just the other day, and the thing that struck me about the friends were, that despite all the problems and dramas in their own lives, they would get together and go see the one friend that is really in pain. They will put their worries aside and aid their sister. Are those true friends?

I think that love would taste like candy-floss! Don’t ask me why, but I do believe it. Pink candy-floss. It reminds me so much of the happiest times of my life, surrounded by those close to me, sticky fingers and a bag of not-so-slowly deflating candy-floss! It tastes like the sweetest sugar, you know, that kind of sweet that is just below sickeningly sweet. It’s that sweet that you can devour tons of, and enjoy being ill afterwards? What does love feel like? To me, that’s easy. It’s the instant relief from pain when your mom kisses your ouchie when you were young. A kiss from mom made all the pain go away, there is a warm feeling inside you, something that makes you realize that you are special and appreciated!

I will leave the argument about God for you, Mr/Miss/Mrs Reader, it is a topic that will last for the remainder of the human species’ existence! I really do hope that a solid conclusion is never reached on this topic, as it would take all the fun out of it!

Faith however is something that I will delve into. Faith is that untouched and underestimated emotion/human condition/best thing about us! Faith is what we have when we put a letter in the mail and know that it will get to where it needs to go. Faith is something that makes you believe in something that you cannot see, cannot touch and cannot taste. It is the driving force behind religion, about sci-fi fanatics, conspiracy theorists. It is the believe, beyond all proof and evidence, that something is the way you believe it is. 

My niece is such a young person, so naive in her thinking, so impressionable, so endearing! I love her with everything in me, but this is where my dilemma beings. At what age do children stop being children? Has technology hampered their emotional growth, their social skills. Has the BlackBerry become a substitute for being able to hold a conversation verbally? The correct use of spelling and grammar? Has laughing with friends been reduced to nothing other than a “lol”! With babies that now poop, cry, sneeze and pee, has imagination become something of a unnecessary ability. When did humanity decide that a child no longer has to imagine any sort of world around them, a world of their own making and adjustment? I do not know if my niece will be able imagine that the doll from 30 years ago is alive, and needs her attention, she prefers the doll that prompts activity. Are children just exposed to too much of the adult work at a young age? Is it fair to keep them inside a hygienic bubble and allow them to suffer once you are gone with colds and flu? 

Thunder and lightning is another one of those blah blah blah moments (please see blue sky point 1). There is some scientific reason for the noise, but to hell if I am going to get into that now! It’s a scary noise regardless, I don’t like it!

Courage. What is courage? Can it be measured? Does it have a certain characteristic? Is the woman who walks across the road courageous? Or every man, woman and child getting into a big ass metal bird and flying across the world? Is that not courage? This is what I think courage is, among MANY things to be sure, but this is the best example: The graphic designer that gets a poster for a movie called “Arial” sets out all the type and copy in Verdana, that is a courageous person! Sticking to your guns and doing what you know is right when the moment comes, and not backing down. Doing what you must do, regardless of the circumstance. That’s courage!

Well readers of the not so constant blog! Thank you for your time, and please feel free to comment, or tweet me or whatever tickles your fancy!

Be good! 

Ray

Be You.

A world of expectation hits us from birth. One is constantly missed. The most important one.

Be Yourself. Be You. Always.

If I Die Young

The Band Perry - If I die young

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a, bed of roses

Sink me in the river, at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Uh oh, uh oh

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother

She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no

Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life, well

I've had just enough time

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life, well

I've had just enough time

And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom

I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,

I've never known the lovin' of a man

But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand,

There's a boy here in town who says he'll love me forever,

Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life, well,

I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar

They're worth so much more after I'm a goner

And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'

Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Uh oh (uh, oh)

The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)

Go with peace and love

Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket

Save them for a time when you're really gonna need them, oh

The sharp knife of a short life, well

I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

YouTube Video

Surrender

A very much uncommon sight in South Africa. An interracial couple.
It is not about the person, it is about embracing the love.

“You can never truly know love, until you surrender completely too it.”

I have always liked this quote, I have told it to others often. But I never understood what it really meant. “Surrender completely too it. “ In this age, this the modern age, the age of enlightenment, we are more than often than not so damaged, so hurt by others, that when we allow ourselves to surrender to love, make ourselves truly vulnerable to another, we are betrayed, our hearts broken, on faith shattered. The result of this is catastrophic, we have become guarded. Shielded by our fear. Locked away in our chests. Intent on not coming out and risk getting hurt. How can someone surrender to love, when our fear of surrendering to it, is so strong. Almost primal. How can we as a species learn our true capacity for love when we believe the risks are too much?

How can a shattered heart be mended, when the pieces are locked away so tightly, so well guarded? Trust another. Trust a true soul. Allow your broken pieces to be put together by another. Listening to one’s heart has become old fashioned, believing in the path the soul has mapped out for you, has instinctively become ignored. Listening to one’s mind, the fear that roams there, the sanctity of logic, where all the answers, all the rationalizations are your own. Made by your mind. Crafted. Molded. Ruled by fear.

Surrender: “transitive verb to relinquish possession or control of something. Strong emotional response to uncontrollable situation”

There it is. The root of the problem. The crux of the matter. Control. Giving up control. Humans are not very good at giving up control, even if it is a fraction of control.  We have lost trust.

Love: “transitive and intransitive verb to feel romantic and sexual desire and longing for somebody or to feel tender affection for somebody. The strongest emotions. ”

Romance? Sexual Desire? Longing? Tender affection? The strongest of emotions. Sexual desire is something that we all know too well. Do we often misinterpret sexual desire as love? A new trend has developed. There is no more dating. There is no more romance. There is no more affection. “Love” has become sexually driven. Then the sexual attraction fades. And we “fall out of love”. What is wrong with the world? What has happened to first dates, second dates, many dates? Getting to know someone. Touching hands for the first time? That spark. That feeling. That tingle in the pit of your stomach. The first kiss. Learning the person. Getting to know them? A kiss goodnight, and the sadness of hearing the car door slam, and that person driving away.

Surrender to Love. Allowing someone, trusting someone enough, to allow them to have the control over your emotions. A person who can hurt you with one word, or make you smile with just a look. Trusting someone enough to share your life with them. To share the darkest truths. The brightest days, the darkest nights. The sunshine, the rain. Laughs and cries.

For those who have been lucky enough to experience true love, the kind of love that hurts when you are not around it, love that makes you tickle when you are around it, and love that makes you want to sing when you are enclosed in it, I envy you. Truly envy you.

I understand now. What it means.

“You can never truly know love, until you surrender completely too it.”

Hold on.

Epic Win!

Brute (possibly incomplete)

I discovered this picture that I was doing in college. 

I never finished it. But I like it this way actually.

So it may not be incomplete!

Click on thumbnail for larger view

Found Dog

Prologue

Image sourced from Google Images

He sat there alone on that day, which was very unusual. Declan Delsado was never alone. He was always with the one whom he loved. But that day he sat alone in his black suite, a white rose in his breast pocket, and a silent tear running down his cheek. In front of him a fresh mount of gravel, and surrounding him an eternal amount of tombstones. Declan was experiencing the day that he never prayed would come. The day that he was parted with the one whom he loved more than life.

The funeral had been over hours ago, but he refused to leave the side of his love. His best friend Renèa had been sitting with him and comforting him not long before, but she had to go home. So there he sat all alone, flower in pocket and tears running silently down his face. He was still sitting there as the sun went down and the moon threw its rays down upon him and the grave, and the tears that lay by his feet.

When Declan arrived home in the early mornings of the day, he was in a state of comatose, where he did not care about the world around him and did not acknowledge anything in anyway. Going into his bedroom, he found a big brown envelope with a pink note on top of it. It was from the only other person who had access to get into the house – Renèa

Declan slowly opened the packet and looked inside. Even though he knew what he was going to find, it still hit him like a ton of bricks, and the tears ran in twin streams down his face, like it was never intended to stop.

Declan found himself falling asleep, tears still falling shamelessly down his face. Clutching the bag of Sky’s possessions in his arms, as if holding on to the memories that were so vivid and clear in this mind.

To Be Continued...

Urban meets Rural

Photoshoot with my best friend.

Unseen

You're always there. This unseen figure in my life. A constant reminded of the life once had, and the hope of the future life. I am never without you my unseen, yet I am alone, you offer no help you offer no word, just a presence, a reference, a silent companion.

Are you what some call fate? Or are you more Holy, more Angel? Or perhaps the demon in my life that plagues me? I do not know. Are you the protector that will help me in times of need? Or are you the one who is creating my times of need? You flummox me greatly. I see you when I look at a beautiful vista, and I read you in a magazine.A shadow, a glimmer a silhouette in the bright sky, you are there.

Have you been with me all my life, or are you new? Why can I not remember you in my early years. Was my once innocence the thing that warded you? When did you appear? When did you become such a part of my life?

I remember you now. I remember your arrival.

A shattered heart. A broken promise. A pain unknown.

You walked alongside me ever since.

Are you the pain in my heart? The unspoken pain? Not allowing me to ignore you?

Is this your aim? Is this your purpose? 

Pain in good times? Unhappiness in glee?

The shady figure I read everywhere, I hear in a song, I see in a view, you are my pain, you are my heartbreak. You are the feeling I have ignored, or gotten used to. I have found you.

My constant companion. 

The Unseen.

Around the corner I have a friend...

Around the corner I have a friend,
in this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.
And he rang mine but we were younger then,
and now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
"Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on Jim
Just to show that I'm thinking of him."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
and distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner, yet miles away,
"Here's a telegram sir," "Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.
Remember to always say what you mean.
If you love someone, tell them.
Don't be afraid to express yourself.
Reach out and tell someone what they mean to you.
Because when you decide that it is the right time
it might be too late.

The Wire-frame

 

I have a theory. Something that is untested, yet it's there.

Human existence is built on a wireframe, a set of rules and regulations that mold and form us. Each person has their own frame and mold obviously, but the point is, there is one. Eye colour. Hair colour. Skin tone. Teeth. Hands and Feet. They are all predefined characteristics.

Is there really a thin person in me screaming to get out? Or is there really just a fat person inside me happy for who he is? Happy to be alive. We hate ourselves. Change ourselves daily. Whether it is physically or mentally. I don't like the colour of my hair, so I change it. I don't like the way I smile, so I stop altogether. As much as I want to change, or try and change, I cannot get away from my wire-frame. My base programming that has dictated these element of myself.

Should I not just accept who I am? With hair the colour of a scrotum, and eyes that love to look at each other. Must I fight to become this perfect model of a human being, when in actually fact, we are all the perfect models of human beings? We are each unique to our wire-frame. Would life not be a much easier life to live if we all accepted this fact and loved ourselves?

We cannot borrow someone else's wire-frame, or permanently change it. Many have tried. Many failed facelifts and body lifts later, personal trainers, diets and pills. So many have tried to permanently alter their frame and never got it right. Nature takes over, and fights it's own fight. Ladies and gentleman of the world at large. Let's look in the mirror, see our frames, look at it carefully. Touch it and feel it all over. learn to recognize the imperfection for it's utter perfection, and recognize that you are the only person who has our frame.

Yours in extreme love!

Ray

William Blake - Auguries of Innocence

 

Exracts from my favourite William Blake poem:

Full poem: http://www.artofeurope.com/blake/bla3.htm

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage

Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons

Shudders hell thro' all its regions.

A dog starv'd at his master's gate

Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road

Calls to heaven for human blood.

Each outcry of the hunted hare

A fibre from the brain does tear.

Every wolf's and lion's howl

Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,

Keeps the human soul from care.

The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,

And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

He who shall hurt the little wren

Shall never be belov'd by men.

He who the ox to wrath has mov'd

Shall never be by woman lov'd.

The caterpillar on the leaf

Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.

Kill not the moth nor butterfly,

For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war

Shall never pass the polar bar.

The beggar's dog and widow's cat,

Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The poison of the honey bee

Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's rags

Are toadstools on the miser's bags.

A truth that's told with bad intent

Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;

Man was made for joy and woe;

And when this we rightly know,

Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,

A clothing for the soul divine.

Under every grief and pine

Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;

Every farmer understands.

Every tear from every eye

Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,

And return'd to its own delight.

The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,

Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath

Writes revenge in realms of death.

The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,

Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,

Palsied strikes the summer's sun.

The poor man's farthing is worth more

Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands

Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;

Or, if protected from on high,

Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faith

Shall be mock'd in age and death.

He who shall teach the child to doubt

The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith

Triumphs over hell and death.

The child's toys and the old man's reasons

Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,

Shall never know how to reply.

He who replies to words of doubt

Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known

Came from Caesar's laurel crown.

Nought can deform the human race

Like to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,

To peaceful arts shall envy bow.

A riddle, or the cricket's cry,

Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet's inch and eagle's mile

Make lame philosophy to smile.

He who doubts from what he sees

Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,

They'd immediately go out.

To be in a passion you good may do,

But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state

Licensed, build that nation's fate.

The harlot's cry from street to street

Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,

Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every morn

Some to misery are born,

Every morn and every night

Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,

Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie

When we see not thro' the eye,

Which was born in a night to perish in a night,

When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,

To those poor souls who dwell in night;

But does a human form display

To those who dwell in realms of day.

TIME by M.K Ntuane

The reInterpr8 of Time

Some say that it’s the fabric of our existence, the life blood of the earth

It’s been with us forever, from our day of birth

And without the ever present hour, ticking of the clock

We would not know where to be, what to do ..SHOCK!

Meetings, schedules, eat and sleep

Remembering the appointments we have to keep

Must we be governed by the clock upon the wall?

And without time will the world fall?

No tick, no tock, no alarms, no hurry

Go to work, hit the gym, relax, and enjoy that Mcflurry

When a loved one has passed, you get upset for the time you didn’t spend

Holding their hand, brushing their hair or the final visit before the end

So time is yelled at, cursed and sobbed over too

You blame it for the things you never got to do

Time is like a movie and our lives are just the plot

You have the power to control it, never think that you cannot

Time! Our much loved enemy that lives inside a clock

We will always hear your heart beat, the tick and the tock.

Silverstein - Broken Stars

Shooting daggers at me, letting it be known you're not impressed. I never fail at failing all your tests. Don't be so proud, 'cause you're still so scared to be alone. And you can't change your mind. You won't embrace this, but you'll accept it. You can't let go. Broken stars by a single shattered mirror, seven years of trust. I know you'll never change for anyone. A gold heart never rusts. My mind's made up and now I know I'll do the right thing, get up and stand tall. My mind's made up. Why am I scared I won't be able to get up when I fall? We cast a single shadow for so long now it's so hard to see the sun at all. But you need light to see the writing on the wall. My mind's made up and now I know I'll do the right thing, get up and stand tall. My mind's made up. Why am I scared I won't be able to get up when I... Fall into the hole I've made, I'll brace myself alone. I'll find the strength within myself to climb out on my own. These broken stars can't be put back in the sky. I can still feel the scars. I won't let them die. We won't fade away. And now we will set this all ablaze.

http://www.silversteinmusic.com/db/index.php

Tension & the effects!

So after this week of absolute manic work, and 16 hour workdays, I am now finished. Done.
Believe me, I am tired as a slut playing around in a field of vibrators for a weekend.

The tension in my shoulders are epic, they are constantly aching. HOWEVER, my two biggest deadlines have come and gone, and the work was done to absolute splendor as expected. I am very proud of myself now. As I rightly deserve to feel. So now the tension has slacked, I am smiling again... there is a catch. As there always is.

All my other deadlines have been moved up as a result of the massive projects, so today, this Friday, I was supposed to catch up on work. Which I was completely ready for this morning. Now however, I dont want to work. I just want to relax and browse the internet and talk crap with Veronica (see previous posts) and just be. Not work. Just be.

I think I deserve it no? After putting in so much in the last 2 weeks? Yes? Yes!

So this is the shit with this tension, if I still had the intense pressure and fear of missing deadlines, I would have been working on the other projects as we speak. So now that the tension has been released, I am so not interested in my other work. How screwy is that.

HAHAHA! I don't care. No-one is going to rush my victory lap. My celebration with Lindt and coffee!

A toast and snack to the ones who have made it through! Stretched and pulled to the limit maybe, but survived. Take that victory lap. Pat yourself on the back. You deserve it. Thoroughly!

Power to you all!
Ray

Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody

To the great who has past, but still lives on!

http://youtu.be/fJ9rUzIMcZQ

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality
Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see,
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me

Mama, just killed a man, Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I've gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooh, Didn't mean to make you cry
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time
Goodbye, ev'rybody, I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooh, I don't want to die
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very fright'ning me
(Galileo.) Galileo. (Galileo.) Galileo, Galileo figaro
Magnifico. I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me
He's just a poor boy from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go
(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go
(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go
(Let me go.) Will not let you go
(Let me go.) Will not let you go. (Let me go.) Ah
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
(Oh mama mia, mama mia.) Mama mia, let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Nothing really matters, Anyone can see
Nothing really matters
Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows