Thursday, September 14, 2006

These Dusty Streets

Diary of a Traveling Man...

London is, among many things a city for travelers, poets and rebels.

The slow and fast boiling is rising within me, virtually visible in the air surrounding me. I needed this. I I need this. A relief, a respite, but more importantly, far more importantly, a burning joy, a bathing, drowning in the spice of life. London has always felt like a forest to me, lush and deep and shadow, a distinct contradiction in the modern world. Yes, civilization, all its bad moments are present here as well, but muted, not so horrible.

I walk these familiar streets, and they’re not familiar at all, but alien, tangible tales of mystery and imagination, from the earth of our birth. I come here to live, as I do in the vast forest, in the darkest, most beautiful night. I’ve come here many times and also lived here for years, but it’s still new to me. A waterfall of inspiration is hitting me, and I have a hard time digesting it all. It is the river of inspiration coming to me from inside, from my vast well of mind and fire, flooding all lands.

It’s indescribable. Words, at least cannot properly describe it or do it justice. The traveler, the nomad is welcome here. The men in black, in uniform is just as disgusting here as everywhere else, but their power seems less, somehow. I can’t explain it, no matter how hard I try, so I don’t. I focus on experience, on life not devalued. And I don’t even have to try.

Here, where I experience sounds and visions from alien worlds.

It's stressful at first, it always is, before you find a place to settle down, before you settle down a bit, sort of adjusting to your new surroundings and circumstances.

Then... it begins.

It begin sinking in.

The smells, the sounds, the sights, the taste of a different world. You have your first meal on this world, and you feel every grain of spice on your tongue. You notice its potency, as it spreads to every piece of your body, your awakening mind. You observe the street outside, and the smallest detail is etched onto your memory.

Everything is so very, very dynamic, and what I sense, what I experience got nothing to do with big city life, with the «fast lane» at all, but is indeed primal to the core.


Rigmor said...

I hope you enjoy your stay. I love this city - not because of the size, perhaps because of the multi-culturalism... but I like it, I do.

Anonymous said...

I know the feeling...
For I too like London. Maybe it's because of the diversity of souls, colour, lifestyle, lives, purposes, thoughts...

A paradox, for sure, for us who treasure the wild, but in a way London is wild human nature, a wilderness of spirits.

And Nature *is* contradictory, paradoxical, diverse and... Beautifull!

Don't sleep in the subway...