CREATION

Creation is a wonderful thing, no? I mean, is it not miraculous that so many years ago, tiny cells joined to form larger organisms, and then were given the gift of living-breathing-life?

We cannot help but love the lives around us. Humans have always been fascinated by other life forms, painting their figures on walls of clay; undulating forms that followed the lines of the cave. They have studied them in every which way, always watching. In the past we watched to learn the wisdom of others, learning which berries are safe to eat, and whether the ice was too thin to cross. Even now, we can learn from biomimicry - copying the organisation of bees in alternative systems design, or watching the water roll off a duck's back, in order to model a better waterproof fabric. 

Along with wisdom, we have acquired over the years a peculiar set of technical terms for groups of animals. These words are fascinating too, and I sometimes ponder their etymological origins. When I read back over these, my imagination runs riot...

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A barrel of monkeys, hooting with laughter.

A parade of elephants, taking a break.

A nest of snakes,
hiding from sight.

A mischief of mice,
all huddled for warmth.

A scurry of chipmunks, thieving the nuts.

A celebration of Polar Bears, shaking off water.

A destruction of wild cats, sleeping in trees.

A lounge of lizards, lazing in sunlight.

A congregation of alligators, mouths all agape.

A band of gorillas, just wanting a rest.

A rookery of seals, twisting and turning.

A troop of lemurs, searching for food.

When lemurs cuddle together, it is technically called a Lemur Ball.

PRAGUE

 

MODERN BOHEMIANISM

“Sometimes the customers threw something into the hats. Sometimes they took something out of the hats. Sometimes they took the hats.”

— GEORGE BURNS ON BUSKING

Out there, on the road, we are all a part of the caravan of traveling gypsies. Sometimes our paths intersect, and we come together to learn from one-another, like the Bohemian painters of Paris. Other times, we are just making our way in the world. 

A fortune-teller stops young girls on the street, asking to see their hands, pawing at them with her own cracked and wizened fingers, while a young monkey of a boy creeps in to steal from their backpacks. 

Two young men perform a silent act, one levitating above the other, drawing crowds of onlookers.

Painters on the streets gather in common, to sketch and daub their works in the eyes of the adoring public, along the bridge of Charles IV. 

A man dips a length of string into a bucket, then blows giant bubbles that dazzle in the sunlight, to the delight of all the laughing children.

And then there is me. I come to learn from these masters, to take from them the magic I see on spellbound faces, and to transform it, via alchemical process, into glances of feeling: my photography. I wish to join with these uninhibited souls, I want to learn more from them. 

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And then the question may be asked, why are we out here, traveling this alternative route? Sometimes I am questioned about my future. They ask me what I plan to do with myself, when I might begin working. As if my life is at a standstill until the real work begins. I have no solid answer for these people, only gestures...

“I have see a vision of a great rucksack revolution... all of ‘em Zen Lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their head for no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures.”

— JACK KEROUACK

CZECH ODDITIES

 

THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF CZECH

The Czech Republic is a wonderfully odd place. Being, as it was, both an ancient kingdom and a part of the Soviet Union, each town is a mish-mash of medieval splendour and depressing concrete apartment blocks. Streets are riddled with abandoned objects, a pram filled with bricks, a half-finished construction site. Roads, too, follow no good sense, and sometimes ended in a large barrier, or coincided with the tracks of a tram-line. 

The Czech Republic is decidedly awesome in all its peculiarity - the people too. Don't get me wrong, they are lovely people, and human, just like you or me. But there is a certain charm there, a je ne sais quois. Maybe it was the way they dress? On one particularly broiling day under the Czech sun, we spotted five shirtless pot-bellied men, and one man wearing a shirt but no pants.

Whatever the source of its charm, the Czech Republic warmed my heart.

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OTHER WEIRD WONDERS WE ENCOUNTERED

The many army supply stores, where one can freely buy ninja stars, batons, and brass knuckles. Naturally, these places were swarming with children.

The bank notes, each picture portraying what appears to be a wizard.

Two brothers wearing Borat-style swimsuits, smoking while paddling down the river Vltava.

Pickled everything: pickled sausages, pickled beets, pickled fish, pickled pork rinds.

The many nuclear power plants.

The never-ending construction zones, most of which have no signage, traffic cones, or warnings.

The superb and extensive selections of beer in every supermarket, often with two whole aisles given over to the stuff.

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That one time we emerged from a backroad to find our way blocked by a tonne of concrete. I considered driving around it and into the large ditch on the side, but then reconsidered and turned back the way we had come.

That other time I found myself driving on an ever-narrowing road, till, without warning, I was stuck between the pavement and a large fence. And again, I sighed, and turned back the way we had come.

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Some parting words... They say it best, in their place.

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