Permanent

Location: A top a hill in downtown Erin.

Description: Looking down between two hills, a winding path leads into downtown Erin which can be seen below.

Story: To be born, to live your life in a month, to die on a windowsill, that is what is given to the common fruit fly. Yet it is their short lifespan that helps them to endure. It is not only the individual that matters, but that the whole, the species, survives into the future.

Too often we mistake what is current for what is permanent. We know that seasons change but forget that the mountains grew over millenia or lakes (like the Clearwater Lakes in Québec) were formed by meteorites. We have hills formed by glaciers and valleys eroded by ancient rivers. We see children grow but miss than huge trees are still growing too.

There are two things we should do. First, take a minute and determine what is permanent about you. Your appearance will change and so will what you do, but your core beliefs are unlikely to be completely rewritten. A metaphorical meteorite may hit your values though, so always stay adaptable. Know what you find important today and it will stay important.

Your other task is to know that permanence is an illusion. Plant a tree today and watch it grow or buy a water feature (one with a fountain running over stones, for example) and notice how it changes with time; really develop your long-term time sense. By noticing how the world around you changes, you'll be much more comfortable with changes in your own life.

Temporary

Location: In between two hills near downtown Erin.

Description: Long grass on two hills, with a runoff stream between them, dampening the grass and forming puddles.

Story: Oxygen is inhaled, taken into the blood stream, and transported to the cells that need it. An exchange occurs, carbon dioxide released, and the oxygen integrated. Food is also brought to the cells where it is consumed and waste expelled. The cycle continues each day, changing one thing into another, this for that.

Slowly, our bodies change. Atoms, molecules, whole amino acids that weren't ours become us. Our very state is temporary, and will eventually cease to be. Isn't it remarkable though, that between the past and the future, atoms from all around us came to form this being?

Who are we then? How do we define ourselves as a person? The answer is dynamic with a common core, a slow progression from what we were to what we will become. Each person is not a static personality, but a journey, a connection of instances. Who were are today is temporary, but the flow of our being through time, that is much more. Savour the change.

Wind

Location: A hill near downtown Erin.

Description: An evergreen tree in amongst others, which wind blowing strongly from the left.

Story: Four months later, it's time to hit play again. I went for a walk through some hills in Erin, and rediscovered parts of myself that I missed. It was open, windy, and so free that I realize some of what I lost. It's easy to take a step, but harder to realize how many steps you've taken.

I took a lot of pictures that afternoon, and remembered just how much I liked writing stories for these pictures. I want to continue, and my current strategy is to work ahead and take more pictures than I need, so I can allow the stories to come when they may. I'm also trying to link pictures directly to their location, so hopefully that will work out well enough.

As a side note, introspection is important. I haven't done it over the past few months, and that's a problem. As I write more of these posts I aim to introspect in tandem, so the quality of material should increase as time passes.

And now, let us move forward once more, being carried by the wind, and let land where we may...

Pause

I need to take a break. I love writing these posts, but I need to re-imagine what, why, and how I'm doing this. I started with a lot of goals that seemed to work well together, but they've drifted apart.

I like taking pictures, I like going for long walks and exploring, and I like writing thought-provoking and positive stories/messages. But to have all of those work together on the same day isn't the case. I have lots of messages to tell, but no stories for them to fit. I have lots of places to walk, but not at times that make for good pictures, or not along interesting routes. To have all four things come together isn't working anymore, especially on a time table.

I'm going to take some time to rethink things and while I'm doing so, I'll probably post a few small things in a simpler form. This tape is just on pause, perhaps even slow-mo as I figure how to move forward. Wait and see.

Labels

Location: Near 5 Navy Wharf Crescent and the Gardiner Expressway, Toronto, Ontario

Description: The Rogers Centre with a garden/patio area in the foreground and the CN Tower behind on the right.

Story: "You don't seem like a Stephanie."

That was all it took to set her off. "And what, pray tell, does a Stephanie seem like? It's just a name. It's a handy way to reference that you're talking to me, that's all. It's easier that constantly going 'That girl' all the time. I mean, take Stephan for example. If I said that I was talking to my friend Stephan, what do you think he would look like?"

She paused, but wasn't expecting a response, so whatever he said in his defense was silenced. "We have all these ideas that someone will act this way, or look like this, or whatever and it's all wrong. Your name doesn't change over the course of your life, but you do. It's not supposed to be an accurate depiction of the entity you are now. It's a label, a tag!"

He sat down and let her go; no point jumping in front of a speeding car. "It's not meant to be descriptive, even more so now. Names no longer tell us if a person is male or female. And it doesn't even make sense! It's like saying that a toaster isn't very Stephanie, or a lemur isn't very topographical, or that bench is metaphorically a river! It's apples and oranges!"

She looked straight at him now; the end was nigh. "I don't care what you think; a name is not meant to describe the character of a person. So when we do this play, I'm going to be called Stephanie, got that?" He nodded. "And if I hear another word about this, you'll be called Mr. Sprinklehead the Third."

UE

Location: Near 5 Navy Wharf Crescent and the Gardiner Expressway, Toronto, Ontario

Description: Lanes connecting Lake Shore Boulevard and the Gardiner Expressway with a sign on a telephone pole in the foreground, a business and empty parking lot behind, and two buildings on either side of that.

Story: "Scrap it."

She sighed. "Yes but-"

"It doesn't matter; scrap it." She looked disheartened, like she had done something wrong. "Look, I'm not saying what you've done is worthless, but you can't continue working on it. You know it doesn't work, because you've carved that piece of wood so much there's nothing left to work with. It's over. If you still want to do it, you'll have to start again."

She started to speak and this time he let her finish. "But I've only started! It's just rough right now. I haven't started on any of the detail."

He showed her the sketch she drew. "This is how you wanted it to look. You can't get to this. Either you have to start on a new piece of wood, adapt your design, or make something completely new." She was upset but holding it in; it would take some time before she could let this go. "Look at it this way: it's better to restart now than hours later." He handed her the sketch. "It'll look beautiful in the end and you know it. Dust yourself off and start again."

Ants

Location: The fourth floor of the Renaissance Hotel, Toronto, Ontario

Description: The roof of the hotel in the foreground with Blue Jays Way cutting a diagonal below and buildings all around.

Story: He looked over from the picnic basket and admired the small mound of dirt they had built. It must be like a mountain to them, building something so much bigger than they were. Just yesterday he had tried to emulate those ants, digging a huge hole and making a pile nearby. He kept at it for hours, his parents just happy that he was digging in the garden, but it never got much higher than his head.

They would have spent weeks on it, that colony, all working together for a common goal. The street had been repaved recently and he saw people working together for weeks as well, building something they all could use. He even got his friends to build a treehouse with him over the summer. Great things could be accomplished together.

One time on TV, he saw how much work they put into their home, how many rooms there were, connecting back and forth in a maze beneath the surface. It was like an apartment building, having all those people living together, but they had built their home as well. Maybe he could talk to other people at school, and get them to build their own treehouses in the woods. They could connect them with bridges, build a whole community up there. Sky ants.