The wind blows through your hair. There is a strange anticipation hanging in the air. But there is also the uncomplicated feeling of athomeness, the opposite of the uncanny unhomeliness. The grass is green and the smell of rain is still fresh in the air. My mind is busy with ideas that cannot come to rest, that cannot find their home.
The wind carries with it strange tales and the clouds promise me something beautiful for the day. I dusted my shoes, getting ready for what might follow.
I quiet myself, and I let the world devour me. At this moment, I could not care less. I let my body float through this makeshift natural area. I am a part of everything but I can also not assimilate, I remain a cancerous growth mutating with every step.
My mind stays busy with every step. I am not sure why the world rejects me. But I am sure has something to do with my body’s stubbornness to adapt to its new sedentary way of life. Opposed to what nature would have wanted, intended.
Comfort hides in the steps that I take. Like a monstrous entity moving slowly over the closely mown grass. It becomes something natural but wholly unnatural at the same time. The contradiction, the beautiful logical puzzle that something so natural can be so strange. Nature is always multiplicity, but the difference is reduced to something that resembles the strangest, the most abstract, natural has become uncanny. Not at home, the rejection of the original intentions.
I hide behind the fact that we are in nature, but nature is chaos, multiplicity, not neatly planted rows on rows of sameness. What a strange thing to ponder while participating in the dance of fools and deluded, getting drunk on the insanity of this game we play.
What a strange thought to have while trying to hit a small little white ball.
The strange musings are my own, inspired by this strange game we try to play. The photographs are also my own, taken by my iPhone.