Poem- And then, more.

I like to sit and do nothing.
I Stare at the walls.
Or, close my eyes and stare
at an image I don’t know,
given to me by something
I don’t understand,
mixed with emotions
that aren’t mine.
Sometimes I open my
eyes to see the same walls
that have always been there.
But then, I close my eyes again.

-M. Taggart

Rustic Wednesday

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“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution” –  Albert Einstein

(Photo taken in southern Maine by -M. Taggart)

 

 

Oh, Gavin. This mind of yours.

Am I the only one to find creativity in this? I am the father. I wish to not be blind of that fact. However, I can’t unsee the stance, the distance, the background. The use of ‘people’ which are decorations for a home, just not in this instance. In this instance, a soon-to-be four-year-old positioned his people exactly so.

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I had no choice but to take this photo and share with all of you.

Thoughts?

Matt

photo taken 8/12/19

 

Poem-

Having framed my imagination
I dropped my will to succeed
Into a vase filled with water
Then placed flowers into the vase
Under my caged imagination
Hoping for the two to finally meet

-M. Taggart

Sent from my iPhone

Odd Walking Thoughts – Twisted Time

He paddled his canoe along the riverbank. Up the banking to his right a corn field stretched for hundreds of yards. To his left woods ranged for miles sloping up into the mountain. He paddled in the middle of it all watching the wind touch the water. He liked to look at the sandy bottom as he glided over. If he used his shadow he could see the river bottom clearly. He could even see individual grains of sand. He wondered if anyone had ever seen the particular grain of sand that he was looking at now. There wouldn’t be enough time in any universe to prove if it had, he thought. “Remember your first thought. Now remember before that. Think of time as a flat surface already containing the past and future without an ending. Now place a mirror above and below. This is nothing but imagination. Remove my voice, I’m already unseen. Now it is yours. Is it real?” Whispered the wind.

-M. Taggart