Wet Paint and Memories

Memories are like a coat of wet paint on the walls in a busy narrow street.

They’re not gonna stay the same.

Airborne

Photo by Vadim Sadovski. Source: unsplash.com

A few days ago, I made a track that I really enjoyed making. I wanted to share it with you guys. I’ve posted part of it on my Instagram page. I’ll link it here: https://www.instagram.com/p/BzeKMICDbe2/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

From a very young age, I’ve enjoyed airplanes. They were magnificent in my eyes. I saw great perfection in the lines they made in the sky. I was amazed when I first saw one up close. I found it amazing how something this big always appeared to be small whenever I looked up, squinting from the balcony of my flat, determined to get a glimpse of a passing miracle of human innovation.

When I was 4 years old, my dad introduced me to Microsoft Flight Simulator. My small hands tugging at the joystick that I could barely keep steady, I found inspiration in the beautiful in-between of the beauty of nature and man’s impeccable skill to innovate. I knew I would never be a pilot. But I knew in the first few moments of playing that game, that I’ll always love these man-made birds. I knew that I would never grow tired of flying.

I love to sit way at the back. I don’t know why. But I really enjoy just sitting there feeling small, harmless tremors that I can feel if I put a finger to the walls of the airplane. I also never get over that feeling of taking off into the air. It gives me goosebumps when the pilot does a good job of landing the plane. And if I see the pilot outside, I smile at him like a happy customer looks at his chef after a great meal.

When I used to play flight simulator, I used to act like I was a real pilot and go exploring lands that I had never seen before. Microsoft did a great job of replicating the world for pilots and I definitely enjoyed it. I remember flying low over Hawaii and flying through New York during the winter. As the years passed, I understood planes better. I read about them, watched videos and drew them in my maths text. I loved everything about planes.

And I think I always will.

My love for planes might make you think I’m a bit weird. Please feel free to say that in the comments section. I’ll take that as a compliment.

I’m indebted to you, dear reader, for still being here. Do give me a follow and drop a comment. I’d love to know one more fellow human being on this planet. Have a blast existing and God bless you!

Nostalgia

Books are like machines. Your hands are like oil to its cogs, keeping them alive and working in your mind. – Stefan 🙂

The paint brush shakes in my hand as I try to make a delicate stroke. I hear the alarm, it’s 6.00 a.m. I flinch, the paint at the end of my brush seems to explode and fall onto the paper below me. The sun seems to peep over the horizon, it’s rays changing the colour of the unfinished piece of art. I smile. Another night. It’s not like I’ve always loved working in the peace of the night, but as of late, I’ve been enjoying one specific part, always watching the sunrise and never missing it.

I sigh, put my head back and close my eyes, sinking into my chair, just enjoying the moment. I open them and look at the slow swish of the blades of the fan, cutting the deep yellow rays of the morning sun. I sit up and look around on my desk. It’s a mess. My eyes drift to the stack of books on my desk.

I feel sad.

From when I was a child, books have been my friends. Being shy, I never had many friends and so, I always had a lot of time on my hands. With no TV to stare at and no video games in my reach, I would turn to books, with an excitement that is amazing, even to think about.

As time passed, I found more and more things to occupy my time with. A 30 year old guitar lying around the house was a turning point in my life. I took it in my hands, and I could feel it, the indefinite potential and the promise of great joy. So I spent every minute I had with it. My dislike for musical notations and my desperation to learn, somehow taught me to learn the guitar without them and I embarked on a new journey, but in taking that turn, I forgot all about books, I forgot about the wave of energy and excitement that flooded me when I saw a new book. The sound of music somehow replaced it, but it never completely filled it, because the excitement was different, the experiences unique on their own accord.

Time passed and I started exploring my childhood love to draw and paint. My endeavors on the blank paper took the time that my musical explorations left behind. Again, my books were left behind, and they mournfully looked on from the shelf, where dust settled on them as the clock ticked on, increasing my guilt. But I ignored it, justifying it as the unavoidable result of my development into an all-rounder, something I’ve always worked towards.

Time passed on…………

Then came into my life a new challenge. Long gone were the days when I could play music and live life easy and get an A on all my papers studying overnight. My backpack got heavier each year and the assignments piled up, taking what little vestige of time I had left.

The dust settled inching it’s way into another millimeter every year, camouflaging my once beloved friends, blending them with the furniture and what else there was that never moved.

Now here I am. School’s over and my guitar sits in it’s case. My paint sits safe in the back of my drawer. They are still alive in my life however, adding perspective and colour to everything I do. But they don’t take up much of the clock. Not like they used to.

I wonder what I could do to use my time well………

I get up from my chair and move over to my books. I take one and wipe the dust from it’s cover.

Nostalgia! That must be how I can best describe it. A longing for a time past, an excitement that took me through at least five books a week.
I look at the book with love. I open it. Then I look at my bed. I should probably sleep. The book looks at me. It somehow seems to understand. ‘No Worries’ seems to hang out from it like a placard.
Not this time, I say. Not this time.
I sit down once again, this time with a book in my hand.

Have you ever felt like I did? Do you have a hobby you lost in time?

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God bless! 😊