
Kirk Tuck (*) observes:
Sometimes experiencing (*) something with undiluted intention (*) is the only way to either enjoy (*) it or even understand (*) it.via Imagine life at high speed. Imagine the adrenaline on all the time (*) by Kirk Tuck (*).
Don't Wonder "What if?" - Jenny P

Sometimes experiencing (*) something with undiluted intention (*) is the only way to either enjoy (*) it or even understand (*) it.via Imagine life at high speed. Imagine the adrenaline on all the time (*) by Kirk Tuck (*).
The padre took a deep breath. He hesitated for a moment and then said:
"A scientist who studied monkeys on an island in Indonesia was able to teach a certain one to wash bananas in the river before eating them. Cleansed of sand and dirt, the food was more flavourful. The scientist - who did this only because he was studying the learning capacity of monkeys - did not imagine what would eventually happen. So he was surprised to see that the other monkeys on the island began to imitate the first one."
"And then, one day when a certain number of monkeys had learned to wash their bananas, the monkeys on all of the islands in the archipeligo began to do the same thing. What was surprising though was the other monkeys learned to do so without having had any contact with island where the experiment had been conducted."
He stopped. "Do you understand?"
"No" I answered.
"There are several similar scientific studies. The most common explanationn is that when a certain number of people evolve, the entire human race begins to evolve. We don't know how many are needed - but we know that's how it works."

Bruce Meyer on cli-fi:
the way we which we change peoples perceptions of [..things..] is to change the way we imagine itvia Cli-Fi by Bruce Meyer.


Tragedies do happen. We can discover the reason, blame others, imagine how different our lives would be had they not occurred. But none of that is important: they did occur, and so be it. From there onward we must put aside the fear that they awoke in us and begin to rebuild.I read this book in early 2010 while on 3 months leave from work .

Drew Ginn on Creating a Moment:
we all start out simply focusing on what we do. Then we either become inspired or imagine and things begin to progress. The days add up along with the months and years. Our focus improves along with our capacities and skills . We advance and things become interestingly possible. Then one day or over a period of days it becomes real. I mean it all starts to hit you that you are living your dream and aspiration has become action. This is a flexion point and a phase of confidently growing and shifting into a belief. Some times it faintly begins to unfold before the big moment and yet no one wants to let themselves get caught up in getting ahead of themselves. So then it's often not until its either to late or almost beyond the moment. The door is welcoming and somehow we can still hesitate. No moment stays open forever and some times they pass with out being taken.
via RUDDERFISH: Dreaming, Reality, Being Home & Moving Forward by Drew Ginn.

In my experience (*) most people's good instincts (*) are remarkably similar, while their bad instincts are often particular. By embracing your good and bad ideas (*) and impulses, by figuring out how to incorporate them into your life (*) and your work, you somehow become more yourself. Plus, you'll probably end up in unfamiliar (*) territory, a place that will engage (*) you in ways you can't imagine (*), make you feel more alive (*).via Follow your Bad Instincts: Dos and Don'ts of Tony Fouhse (*) by Colin Pantall (*).






Joel Meyerowitz on Vivian Maier:
To go up and photograph a stranger on the street you have to hold your ground and be fearless and take what you want because it is yours.via Vivian Maier BBC Imagine (2013) by Joel Meyerowitz.
Will see an exhibition of Vivian Maier photos in Vienna in mid-July.

Joel Meyerowitz on Photography and the Past, Present and Future :
We can never imagine the work we might make in the future – that’s part of the wonder of all art making – but when we are in the present and can look back, as I can, over 50 years of work, there seems to be a continuous path that unwinds in a way that sometimes seems inevitable.via A Full House by Joel Meyerowitz.











It's been 10 years since I lived in Cambridge [Boston]. When I saw the Charles River again, a desire to run swept over me. Generally, unless some change takes place, rivers always look the same, and the Charles River in particular looked totally unchanged. Time had passed, students had come and gone, I'd aged ten years, and there'd literally been a lot of water under the bridge. But the river has remained unaltered. The water still flows swiftly, and silently, toward Boston Harbour. The water soaks the shoreline, making the grasses grow thick [..]I sat beside the River Charles. It was late afternoon on the last day of our 4 days in Boston. We had arrived on the Friday from a week in New York. Here are a few photos from my time sitting by the River Charles.
Maybe because it's the home of the Boston Marathon, Cambridge is full of runners. The jogging path along the Charles goes on forever, and if you wanted to you could run for hours. The problem is, it's used by cyclists, so you have to watch out for speeding bikes whizzing past from behind. At various places, too, there are cracks in the pavement you have to make sure you don't trip over, and a couple of long traffic signals you can get stuck at, which can put a kink in your run. Otherwise, it's a wonderful jogging run.
As I sat there I could see tiny sail boats, standup paddle boards and wind surfers. One wind surfer was fairly inexperienced and a more experienced wind surfer went to his aid, if only to provide advice and moral support, in the knowledge of just being there.
The small sailing boats were from MIT, which is just across the River, and it was only when I saw through the transparent sails, that I realised that in reverse, MIT, spells TIM, my late Brother's name - so I thought about him for a little while. He had been to Boston a few times also, so I thought about all the same things for Tim. Maybe he had sat here and pondered some of the same things, 25 years earlier? I also wondered why I had never made the MIT to TIM connection. Or thinking about it now, I think I may have thought about it a long time ago, but maybe I had forgotten remembering the connection.
Have been to Boston four times prior to this trip and I have visited it on each of my trips to the USA. The last time was just over 17 years earlier in April 1994, where I had hoped I might be able to run the Boston Marathon (*).
Now as I sit here and think about the things I thought about by the River Charles in Boston that late afternoon on Mon 22 Aug 2011, I can now see where Haruki Murakami's (*) ran along the side of the same river on the very path he captured in words above and I have captured in the photos on this page. I also now have an appreciation and can imagine where he found part of the inspiration to write What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (*), which I am now reading and enjoying.
That will do for now. Just leave it here.





