To celebrate, here's a little something cooked up from left-overs (past fragments shot when I only had my digital still-camera's tiny movie option) with narration written and spoken by me yesterday, plus a bonus: part of Elyne Road by the wonderful Toumani Diabaté - thanks to Teju Cole for this music which I had not heard before. And by the way, DO NOT MISS Cole's brilliant book, Every Day Is For The Thief , now available from Amazon.
Here are the words of my poem-like thing - thanks to Dave of Via Negativa for this genre-definition. In my case, it means randomly breaking up a normal paragraph into poem-like lines.
Peopled patterns moving across the landscape of time in perfect symmetry
every dot intending to go somewhere or to return,
clusters of intention gathering then dissolving
into slow dance or frenzied run,
leaving tracks in the sand and in the air.
What would they look like
if we could see them,
these traces of our restless passage,
on our way in
and on our way out?