sadness sneaks in. he asks himself how. there seems to be no purpose to his day-to-day dillydallying - revisiting snapshots of other people's moments in a visible public's eye, nature's way of presenting itself in an ever-changing world, the skies in their shifting and contrasting colours, the darkness that still manages to exhibit artistic forms and shadows. he feels a suffering. an agony of sharing moments that are only relevant to him, the public merely an unwitting witness and judge to their likeness and politeness.
he sneaks his gaze outside. he feels the emptiness. the lacks. the potholes in his current life. he measures himself then contemplates - himself like the yellowed leaves in autumn, quickly carried away by the passing gust, to the world's irrelevance.
he finds himself stuck but gradually pulls himself, like the flexing branches of mangroves celebrating their liberties from the vast mudflats of space and time.
photo:
amsterdam | netherlands
august 2015
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