Walk in the sky II
I haven’t posted anything for months. Yet to my surprise over the period of inactivity I’ve gotten more visitors per day than when I was posting regularly. One could interpret it as the world rewarding me with followers in exchange for keeping my mouth stuffed with toffee-infused cotton. I get the message.
Just a few words of explanation: I didn’t go into hibernation, nor was I too busy. I actually did have a lot to say (having said that, I’m not trying to imply that it was important or interesting). I think I caught myself losing the Urban Richard Long spirit and a few posts I have written since then were just rubbish. I’m glad I had the decency to keep them unpublished. I moved further away from walking and photographing and started blabbering too much. This post is an attempt to put things back in order.
A long time ago I blogged about the experience of infinity and titled the post ‘Walk in the Sky’. Now, the post’s title seems ominously prophetic as I did experience such a walk just a few weeks ago. To make it even more Shakespearian, few days before embarking on the walk I had come across this in Hyde Park:
It’s a pavilion designed by Jean Nouvel for Serpentine Gallery’s annual architectural commission. We seem to be on the same page and in a true ‘metaphor meets reality’ style Nouvel visualises what I thought all along: sky is bloody brilliant. To be fair, he takes it a step further and in his vision, so is colour green.
Coming back to prophecies, they’re everywhere, as any self-respecting lunatic will tell you. However, to paraphrase a Nobel prize-winner Herbert Simon – a wealth of prophecies creates a poverty of attention. The only ones worth mentioning are the ones which turn out to be true yet completely not what we thought they will be. As with Macbeth killed by a man not born from a woman, or almost anything about Saleem Sinai’s life in Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children.
To cut to the cheese. I had foretold my own walk in the sky months before of actually planning it – and quite honestly without remembering the prophecy. That’s what made it beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the Isle of Skye.
