Like footprints in the sand which slowly fade away, my thoughts swiftly flow through, whilst the wind blows my sun scorched face here in Golden Bay. The sea, symphonically rushing its way through the pebbles which rest upon the sea bed. Nothing to see accept the sun, slowly fading away in the horizon reflecting its warmth for the last moments of the day. I look up towards the skies, and all I can see is a tower, which like a chameleon has adapted to its surroundings maybe to protect itself, to survive through the turmoil of time and mankind’s greed for power.

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In pairs we walk through the tunnel, contained through a rusting fence, prohibited from moving around within a diameter of a maximum of 5, maybe 7 meters. The wooden benches carved and tattered, aged through the passage of time and the weathering of this anguished environment, dirty, filthy, unwelcoming. The walls, dug out by the blowing winds of winter and scraped by the scorching rays of summer, a process recalled by these walls for ages. The obscene frescoes on these walls are the only most recent addition which contrary to the rest seem to increase as more of us pass by through the years. Graffiti that display history, nationality and maybe even state of mind.

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All right so it’s a sunny day and it turns out to be one after a detrimental four day long foggy type of weather which does not permit you to see up to a distance of a few kilometers (Maybe I am too sarcastic here). So together with my wife we decided to make a visit to the old city and enjoy the sun there and chilling out. Grabbed the Cam and off we went.

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Listening to Michael Buble in my car, looking out of the window, wondering about the sky above me, waiting for the ferry to come and take me to the other side, towards the peaceful island of Gozo. The island that inspires me, that keeps me close to my thoughts.Gozo is my escape, the cushion that cuddles me, the nurse that has taken care of me the first time I saw the external world. Gozo forms part of the three islands being the second largest of the three; however it has kept its character and history. In winter Gozo is like the flourishing freshness of a flower. And now that March is over, I see that nature is preparing for the hotter season yet to come.

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I forgot how my heartbeat sounded,

I forgot the sequence of my breath,

I forgot what I was meant to live for,

I forgot what had been prepared for me,

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Was it a dream, I ask and now that I think of it, am I awaken or am I dreaming of being awaken, and thus eluding myself of being awake, eluding myself into a world of surrealism. I realized that my strengths were also my weaknesses and beliefs were also my un-answered questions. I found out that the cliff that held the bastions has now crumbled down like a wall of sand. I find out that the tree I once looked at, so strong and resilient is now nothing more than a petal, so fragile so frail. It was like a storm building up far out at sea but then turning out to be a ripple in a fish tank. Does it make sense to fall back in the dream and start all over again or is it better to grief and live an awaken existence?

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And whilst feeling the vibrating shutter make it’s click, I thought how this lens compares to a magnet that attracts these moments to compose an expression. It seemed as if time stopped, and light fell just on the right spots, as if gravity was the Michelangelo in the middle of a masterpiece, shaping the moment through shadows. It was as if there was no deformation through the lens and the reflection of the right tones composed the image as it was meant to be.

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I have been for several days now trying to come up with the best idea to converse with you through blogging. I wanted to create some form of interaction with you and your ideas, to know what you see in most of these images. Since I am not very well with design and coding I had to find something ready and now that I found what I needed, a new feature in www.rchircop.com is launched.

For this launch I have included this new capture I did recently which I felt should be named as “obscure but for how long?”

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