No One Arrives Until They Depart

     It was a wallaby apocalypse. Which is entirely paradoxical, because you know the wallabies are friendly when both of you get bitten by them...

Mike Hemus and I recently had a little adventure in Tasmania. Mike documents all of his journeys with photographical stories, and has an innate gift for capturing images of humans and moments that are the kinds of images that other photographers wish they had taken themselves. His blog, Departing Friday, is where his growing collection of unique, quirky stories can (and should), be viewed. 

During this most recent adventure, we surfed a bunch, kicked footballs, drove a lot, drank coffees, spoke of Douglas Adams and the universe, took a thousand photographs each, and were both bitten by wallabies. 'imagine perfection' is Mike's brilliant Tassie gallery. This is my ode to the man who inspired my photographical beginnings more than any other - the story of the same trip, but with my own version of imagery:

Some Other Place, Some Other Time

Deep amongst the ghost notes, in the belly of a dream, straining just to see - what is this fog that coats the glass?
Then intake and the window clears, and it halts your very breath;
The streets below all splashed in warmest sepia light, lit by infernos in the west sky.
A city alive with silhouettes, and alive with something more;
It takes a moment then you grasp it - 
There is no anguish here.

Like the moon that pulls the oceans, a shadow in the distance slowly draws your gaze.
Your eyes come to rest upon such grace as you've never seen before.
Oh how softly do her feet fall; they hardly touch the ground. Her hips kiss the ebony of the softest flowing  gown; hypnotising, pendulous, she pulls you deeper with each and every fluid step.

It seems as if she moves toward - is she coming just for you?
Toward you like a wave she swells, and owns the entire space around her.

Exhale - Then rushed with panic as she disappears into your fog.
But with a blink you're on the pavement, and still she moves toward you like a tide.
You're mesmerised.

Her intention washes over you; her conviction liquid warmth;
You offer no resistance (it has no place when you've chosen to dissolve)
She stops just before you, and your breath shares the rhythm of her rising, falling chest,
and she peers into your eyes and you know she sees it all.
You know, because you, too, see all of her.

And there's no need for your words, and there's no need for your time.
Just liquid warmth and amber eyes; those amber eyes that saw you and then shone.

You're suddenly aware of a thousand gliding shapes, wheeling far above you, and beautiful jet black wings unfold from behind her and a rift inside as your heart slips, but she calms you with a knowing smile and away into the sepia light she flies...

Away, she flies.

What a wondrous world to live in, you muse, where truth is all that is. Where there is no need for shame, and no place for despair. Then sadness as she rejoins her winged and graceful kin, and all begins to fade.

You wake with a sense of beautiful loss, and images of silhouettes above a golden city, and you embrace the lovely melancholy that falls upon your heart. Your girlfriend shifts in bed beside you, sensing your sudden wakefulness, and in a gentle voice of silk and night, asks you what has stirred your sleep.

You sleepily recount your dream, and explain how curious it was that everyone had such strange, beautiful, dark wings, and only truth was possible in that majestic city bathed in sepia light.

She giggles next to you and half asleep you wonder why she is laughing at you. Then slowly she rolls over with luminous, amber eyes, and climbs on top of you, smiling as her legs slide either side of you. Wings unfold from her slender back as she moves up and down upon you, an ocean of liquid warmth swelling inside you, and you dreamily remember where you are, wondering why you have such strange dreams.

Dreams that make you wake, thinking no one can fly, and truth is lost and fragmented within a sea of flailing desires. Dreams that for a moment leave you grounded, aware of some other place, some other time; perhaps some place you have been before..?