Five-Hundred Word Challenge 520: Spinning, Twirling, Rotating

And of course, here we are at the juncture of moving between being and not being, but the body remains fluid and dynamic in its movement.

Spinning, twirling, rotating and becoming something that is just so much more than what we all have come to expect, the dancer gracefully moves between the power of form and the power of becoming.

They move between multiple realms and reshape themselves; their body as amorphous as it is static and still.

Changing shape and speed and moving back and forth, creating a dance that surpasses all forms of expectation and using the body to express the power of their control, yet they themselves lose themselves in the moment and take on a more natural state of movement, thus also displaying the power of the unconscious to guide and direct. The instinctual takes over, but only somewhat. The form is guided as it transitions to new shapes and the idea of that which is being witness is something human is moved beyond. The idea that something that is being witnessed is display and transformation is something that gradually takes over.

Of course, it it all a form of expression. It is a medium of display and it is up to the interpreter to take away what they all think it means. However, the dancer still expresses and that is not something that cannot be ignored. The dancer expresses and sues their body to get that expression across. However, they clearly move beyond their physicality. They move beyond their physical being and become so much more, for it is too simple to say that they are a person.

It says very little to say that they are a dancer. They are creating something. It may not exist for a long period, but it still exists and it is something that displays the strength of being and the flow of form.

Moving back and forth, changing shape and flowing in a way that displays more than just grace and beauty, the dancer keeps on moving and creating and destroying and creating some more in a dance that continues on. They are immersed in what they are doing far more than what some would come to expect and that immersion draws many to the spectacle. Many to witness and many to transcribe in their own thoughts and words and gradually transform the work into something that they can take from.

The transformation leads to forms of translation and there is a carrying forward thought he memories, for the dancer reaches through mind and time, whether they realise or not. They leave a trail that is moved forward by others, for the work of transformation does not just end with the performance. It continues onward through the form of memory and other means of expression, and continues onward and attracts more spectators.

The dance may have come to an end, but the form is still transforming and creating and in the memories the dancer continues with their dance.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:51:31

Not exactly great, but I think that I’m pretty happy with the result and form of expression on this one.

I’ve had an idea for a set of photos recently and I think that this bit of writing was a result of having that idea.

I think it’s also the result of desiring to push out and away from how and what I’ve been writing about.

Written at UNSW.

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Body Moves Over the Rock

Taken a number of months ago but only sharing now for some reason.

I like the way the water is moving over the rock.
I like that the rock looks a little like a scallop shell.

I think that the way the water texture contrasts with the rock is interesting. These are two very different looks coming together and even though they are distinct, I don’t think that they clash in any way.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 519: Tedium Setting in

A lot of walking and very little else.

Too much land to cross and not enough land to see.

Endless swathes of nothingness, and yet it all seemed to be so full and crowded at the same time.

Concrete rose and fell over time and distance and hills disappeared as everything flattened out and became distinctly featureless and empty, but there was still so much to see and notice and go over.

Yet, looking out and over revealed nothing that could be seen with any form of ease, but then again they had to admit to themselves that maybe they were seeing nothing by choice rather than by necessity.

Perhaps the tedium was setting in and they were just getting over it all, for the walk had been long and the area had been vast and featureless and there just wasn’t really anything else to go on. Of course, had the way of thinking been changed, the situation may have remained the same. It was difficult to tell, really.

Or was it?

Who knows?

It had been far too long and all of this was just some sort of circular exploration despite the fact that there had been a clear linear path walked throughout this mass of land and blandness. Distinct, utter blandness that did little else other than show how empty it all was, and yet crowd and almost suffocate the whole thing.

Heat gave off in the distance, but only at times and the steps became more and more ragged the further on there had to be a push forward, but of course there was little else that could be done.

Too far along to turn back, too far from the end to continue, but of course the necessity was that of one which involved continuing, and so pushing onward almost aimlessly, and yet driven by something instinctual and automatic they continued.

There was, of course always a choice, but it was certainly a situation that did not seem to warrant such a thing; not even as a passing thought.

On and on and on and soon it became difficult to tell what kind of land it was, for all was becoming a blur. Sand, concrete, forest, plains, water, earth… it no longer mattered.

There only was the push forward to lead on and even though resources were running out and rationing would not slow their decline, there was no time to stop and do something else. There was no time to rest despise being overcome with fatigue, for there needed to be a push through all of the waning energy.

Sweat had stopped pouring from their pores and dry their mouth had grown and so they eventually collapsed and lay there on the ground. They lay there on the surface for a moment before they began to drag themselves along through something that could still only be seen as featureless.

Their having grown parched and in desperate need of sustenance, and yet they still push themselves onward.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:54:99

Started off more land-descriptive (in a sense) and gradually became more of the person, I think.

I think.

Written at UNSW.

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From Mistral Point to Boora Point

I’m pretty sure that Boora Point is in the far distance. It may be Magic Point.

A photo taken in Maroubra.

There’s quite a few features in this photo (I think), but there’s a few things in particular that I like:

You can’t see much of Maroubra Beach.
There’s a very apparent shift in the land type over distance.
The sea spray adds a little bit of liveliness to the photo.
The clouds look massive and rolling.

There are other things, but overall I think there’s a lot that comes together to help make this photo as good as I think it is.

Essentially a combination of elements that I was lucky enough to capture.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 518: Back at UNSW Once More

So here I am, sitting at the University of New South Wales once more.

To be more specific, on its grounds. I am here with a coffee and I am here dreading the fact that I am here.

Maybe that is a little dramatic, but I think that today calls for dramatics and theatrics and all the other things that come with all of that stuff, or something.

Returning to finish the degree and then be done with it all.

Wait. I’m meant to be bemoaning my fate or something right now; even if it is as a joke.

Oh, woe to be my being right now, blah blah blah. You get the idea.

I know that I don’t want to be here. I know that I’m fine with being here, but I forgot as to how much I’d much prefer to be doing other things with my time than being here and learning about something that I’m not entirely interested in anymore for the time being.

I think that, for me, university has run its course and what I’m doing at the moment (or at least for the rest of the year) is tying up loose ends and getting the last of it out of the way so I don’t have to worry about coming back once more to finish something unfinished.

This is of course assuming that I don’t in the end decide to once more come back and continue on the path of creation, with creation being that of the building of knowledge and more forms of thinking that I am not usually able to apply in everyday life, or at least not apply in the ways that I would love to be able to.

All of this is to say that I’m here and I don’t want to be here at the moment. There are other places of which I’d much rather be.

Still, I get to be here. I get to take courses run by people that I respect and that is always a boon in my eyes.

Just a matter of pulling the finger out and knuckling down and getting it all done so that I can be the best that I ever was forever and a day, and keep on going along the path of mastery, so long as the mastery is not achievable. I don’t know. Being a master of something seems pretty limiting in some ways, but I imagine that most masters don’t see themselves as such. I imagine that they see themselves still as students, learning and continuing on and learning and so on and so forth, for a road that ends may not always be a road worth walking.

Now, where was I?

Oh, right: Screw university, screw being here, screw doing the learning, I hate everyone, etc etc. Death to learning, down with the system, evils of free will vs evils of control. I think that you get the idea at this point.

Well, at least one point.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:03:56

Didn’t have much to go on this morning so this is what just so happens to be the result.

Ta. Daaa.

This was slower than I had anticipated, but I think it had to do with the table I was using. It was very shaky.

Maybe it was just me.

Written at UNSW.

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Circular

I wonder as to what lead to the way this place eroded?

I like the earthy colours and the intermingling of minerals in the rock and the shape that they create.

I also like the contrast between the sky and the geography of this little bit of space. I think it makes for something a bit more striking.

This was taken in Maroubra. I like that this small pocket of “Nature” among an urban region of Sydney exists. Sometimes things like this allow you to forget you’re in Sydney.

I’m sharing this photo as part of The Lens-Artists Photo Challenge.

The challenge is hosted by four people and cycles weekly:

Week 1 – Patti

Week 2 – Ann-Christine aka Leya

Week 3 – Amy

Week 4 – Tina

This week is hosted by Patti and next week’s will be hosted by Leya.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 517: Vast, Endless Horizon

I just want to get to the water. I want to stand at the shore and look outward and see what is happening far off on the horizon and just lose myself in the scene that I am presented with.

I want to walk along and feel the sand as it shifts between my toes and under my skin, forming some sort of stable footing that’s a little stronger than something completely soft due to the pressure that is underneath.

I need to look out and see something that I need to find, for I am projecting onto something out there. I need to look at what it is that I am searching for. I need to project and visualise it and realise things that need to be realised.

I shall feel the water as it laps at the shoreline and I shall let it wash over my feet as I walk along and find somewhere to stand and look outward.

It is not the sunset, but it is getting to dusk and a blanket is being dragged across the sky, wrapping the earth not in warmth but in night. Well, at least this part of the earth.

I stand and I stare and I look outward and I am a great distance away from myself as I am slowly, yet surely absorbed by the scene that is presented to me. I need to let this happen and I am all too willing. I need to go beyond myself and look inward and look outward and find myself overwhelmed by something that is so much greater than I am. Overwhelmed and speechless as the beauty of it all just grabs me in the most gentle, yet gripping ways it possibly could.

It all seems so infinite as it goes beyond what I can easily see, and it all seems like something that is just far beyond massive in ways that I am not equipped to comprehend at this juncture in time.

I can only look out. I can only look out. I can only stare. The tide is coming in at a small, steady pace. I eventually pry my eyes away from the beautiful distance and keep on walking along, lost in through, trying to work things out and work out where I am going and what I need to do and see how all that I have done has lead to this point in time, locating me in space and having me walking along the sands of the shoreline as the waters keep on lapping away, engaging in some sort of rhythmic dance that is something that I cannot quite perceived. I can’t perceive it as it is a rhythm that I am not familiar with. I am not familiar with this rhythm for it is one that is ever-changing and in tune with nature and the way that nature works.

I walk and the colours are cast across the sky, but only briefly across the vast, endless horizon.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:20:06

I’m feeling a touch melancholic at the moment and I think that that may have come through.

Written at work.

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