This video is just a collection of images in and around Enkhuizen, NL.
It makes me very happy to watch it. Is it geometries? Geometries of lines across roofs and gutters or tilts of façades to crane out away from falling rains or thatches of grasses of hills piled just so? Is it greens of youths long forgoten or lived over and over so many times that subtleties have reinforced themselves into a clear lock on an exact shade?
Rob says it’s just maybe time to reinhabit an obvious dream and I wonder if a dream at a distance is just a muddled mist in the midst.
So appealing, the views. So necessary, the tiny spaces that hug me in, the moisture everywhere that must be kept back but that wants to be kept close.
We know about the water, do we not? We know we do not control it but we persuade it and we channel it and we cajole it do we not? And when those things seem to fail, remember that we float!
Our language floats and laps and waves and baubles and bobs and bubbles and sometimes gurgles and plows itself into a wall of shore and it syllables tumble towards America when they pass through Britain—or do they come out American when they are forced into British regimentals?
Home is where you hang your hat, but we hatless ones must set sail and images that come to us over these internets speak to us and call to us.
What is our answer and do we even hear ourselves repeating the question over and over in our heads? Have we forgotten the way back? Do we need to be reminded of the cost of saying no?
Tears are water and salt has its place and that’s not always a welcome place.