Paddle into ten thousand acres of Zen landscape.
Every screengrab is a metaphor, haiku.
The things I notice are not mine, but me.
Projection doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Two duck fly low over the water;
Closing with the edge of awareness, the eyes become incidental to the object of attention, virtual camera.
There’s no blue or green out there, but I see them vividly.
This was made, I made this, in the fading awareness of shutdown.
Oh, the elegance of decay.
Everything exists on the point of a pin.
And while you might become oblivious to the beauty of experience, the greater risk is of becoming too susceptible.
“Oh god, not another fucking beautiful day.”