Traveling South

Well, as we round the corner of the south east the country takes a different look and feel. It's been difficult to wear the souls of people. I've seen so much yet so little and there's so much to tell but I don't know how to paint the words on the canvas of paper. So, I sit or stand behind the camera and film; seeing through and object gives me another perspective.

You read about this journey from three points of view. That's how I live in this world. I see my self through my eyes, through the eyes of others, and my interpretation of both.

When talking with people, film adds another dimension. People have something to say and I actively listen, providing a medium for their voice. The voices I've heard speak the same thing - "hear me", "see me". As I've traveled, as we've traveled, the voices shout, whisper, cry, ache, and laugh. Here, in the South, the voices lilt hautingly.

The trees are sad here; high off the ground pines and others I don't recognize. If the ground cried out when Abel's blood soaked the ground when his brother Cain killed him, how has this earth responded to the blood, guts, and gore that was spilled in a horror that still can't be effectively told. I feel poems exploding up within me.