All this unchecked wild growth. This gracious abandonment. These plant seeds flying around, offering themselves to anybody, offering themselves to nobody. This whirlwind of life coming together in this very moment, unplanned yet fully in sync. Not asking for a witness, not needing to be acknowledged, just being there.
I follow the path down the river. There’s so much to take in that I feel like closing my eyes. Too many channels open. Right here, on these rocks lit by the setting sun, I sit in silence. Everything can be held in this warm light. The darkness and turmoil can just be there, along with everything else, without claiming to be taken so damn seriously.
There’s no need for drama, even if all the actors are still there, on the stage of my mind, waiting to get back to their little roles. They just love to play the same slapstick comedy over and over again. It looks like a comedy from the outside but it’s not. Those buffoonish characters with red cheeks and colorful costumes going again and again through the lines of my script. My self-narrative.
Denial, anger, sadness, hope, acceptance, denial, anger, sadness, hope, calm, acceptance, denial.
Everything can be held in this light, including the stupid script and the bad, over-dramatized acting. I follow this path down the river and it always leads back to myself.
I took the photos in May 2022 somewhere in the forests along the border between Belgium and Germany.