The sun burned hot in the sky last summer.
The rain did not come for months and everything that had been real to me began to fade
Like the green of the grass as it changed to yellow, crackled beneath my bare feet and turned to dust.
I remember forgetting obligations, complications and random social drama...
I stepped away from it all and chased rust and trains instead.
As the reality I knew twisted, turned, writhed and fought for my attention
I let it wither and fade.
I ran after magic, I meditated in the dry heat,
I let time roll backwards and forwards then cease to exist at all.
I chased sunrises and sunsets
I hunted for old buildings where I could lose myself in photographing the lovely details
Of crumbling bricks and cracked paint
And I thought about how everything we build turns to ash eventually.
It is only our soul outside of time and fabrication that lives and exists to create more life.
So I stopped feeding the machine
The man made web of credit, work and wasted days
My life would no longer be lost to wretched office walls
That would one day crumble and decay like the rest.
I chased sunsets and trains instead
Until I couldn't even remember why I ever walked into the office day after day
And believed that it mattered and was worth trading in my life, my bliss, my time or my art.
Then one day after the drought outside had lasted for so long
that it had drained most of the color from the natural world around me
I looked up and asked for rain.
I felt one drop then another
The sky clouded and the storm came
With a torrent of rain
And I walked out of the office and chased the storm instead.