Debussy. Tangiers. Shoreditch. Where to begin? A breathe. A sense of presence. Some water. I've walked. Ah, the coffee arrives, a moment to come to a sense of presence. This being here, this place, this time. And, to think of this place and time as embodied, an embodied presence. My body is the place, and my time, what is my time? This presence of my time. A time to drink coffee. A time of my life. This presence, now, holding onto now, a visual presence, a photograph. A photograph, an articulation of presence? Sometimes.
My hand moves, I put down the coffee cup, pick up my glasses to see these letters as they form into words and the words become a sentence, a content, content following form? Words resonate. Words articulate. An objective perspective may see content following form, or forming content - a point of view. Another way of seeing is through being, a presence, a perception of phenomena, an awareness of things having presence.
I remember Tangiers. End of the sixties. After Karen. After not deciding to stay in the USA. Everything was lined up for me to stay. A place, a job, a relationship, a family, to stay. Tangiers was getting away. I have some photos, somewhere. I need to get Apple Photo books made. Apple stop printing books at the end of September.
And now. Here we are. Writing. Words resonating in so many ways. The presence of these words, not just the words of 'self', the words of self and other. Another sense of being here, another sense of presence. This conversing. A heartening beginning into this day.