one a day #1

one a day #1
Originally uploaded by searmid.

This is the beginning I guess. We'll see. I've had plenty of beginnings in the past and many have ended long before their best before dates. Inertia I need.

Up until this point, this placing of words with this image, I thought I was involved in an exercise in photography. Apparently not.

This is more than photography.

It's appropriate that the first photo posted is a reflection. I look at myself in a mirror.
What do I see?

Aside from a man long overdue for a haircut I see a certainty in my eyes. It's a certainty that is always lingering in my heart and soul, but rarely makes it through the clutter to the surface. I see eyes that desire only to see, to understand, to penetrate.

It's been a long time since I was in the habit of writing down my thoughts. The observations of a man on the street, for that's what I once was, living in another city, the one in which I was born. I was a writer of words, of verse, of prose, of nonsense strung together on pages bound together between black cardboard covers; all born from my desire to see.

The black bound books sit on the bottom shelf of the giant ikea monolith hovering over my shoulder. A dozen plus volumes - I think a fairly prolific generation of words considering the short time period they cover. Then one day the writing stopped. I thought about that today, about a poem I wrote about John McDermid, and wondered why I don't write poems about John McDermid anymore, or for that matter, why John MacDermid doesn't write poems anymore.

I don't think it's completely answerable a question. But i have an inkling it has something to do with wonder and the exercising of certain parts of the brain.

So, this is day one of one-a-day.

goodluck.