The sky is an old friend. We go way back. We’ve shared a lot. Happy endings, for sure, but storms too, and utter disappointments. And the dreams… They are born inside my mind but the sky is where they go to sleep, never fully absent, lingering.
The first thing I do when coming out from under a man-made ceiling, is look up – there are stories written up there that tell of all things past and more to come. I walk around all day looking up at the cloud formations. They get so complex they reflect my own thoughts. I ask the sky about upcoming moods and following downpours.
Some clouds are flying-friendly and calling me up to join them. Others simply warn not to trespass, or else. They are ever changing, especially in Vancouver. I cannot conceive a day without being able to look at the sky. Prison has many shapes.
So even though I’ve used them before, here are my two favourite sky pieces , one by a man who knew things out of pure genius and inspiration but had probably never even been airborne, the other by an unknown source with thousands of flights under its belt, proving that nothing in life should be taken too seriously, not even flying.
“For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.” (Leonardo Da Vinci)
“Basic Flying Rules: Try to stay in the middle of the air. Do not go near the edges of it. The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there.”
So I went out and walked on the beach, and waited for the sun to sink behind distant mountains, and then setup the tripod, and waited some more, for the sky to talk to me, for the sea to echo, for clouds to light up from the inside and for time to pass. It always does.