Imagine the thin wall…thin like, perhaps, one-brick thick…Imagine this wall is not too tall, but neither is too low…just about the size you would imagine it could be…Now imagine that you are walking on the top of this wall…how often that child in us would do just this – walk on the kerb in the middle of motorway or on the edge between sea and shore, where the water would just about to reach our feet…what would you feel walking that thin line? I suppose, you’ll be excited; maybe a little scared, perhaps, shrieking from the pleasure of the discovery that you can do it…and so proud of yourself…
It puzzles me why in happy times of childhood we would try out dangerous things, we would jump the cliffs and climb the trees…we would walk that kerb, that wall, we would leave our footprints on the smooth surface of a wet sands and get enchanted watching the disappearance act when the wave covers the prints and takes them with her into the depth of the sea…but when we are matured responsible adults…somehow we forget how to do this…how to make our everyday’s life a little bit more exciting then we ever thought she might be…how often do you walk the kerb, making your way to the car park? When was the last time you skipped with a rope? How big was your last sand castle? It is not that nostalgia for those years of youth gets under my skin…it is more of a question I found I do not know the answer to…Pleasures could be gained from such a simple act, yet somehow with age we forget how to do that…
Walking the thin line between the reality and fantasy is not a walk in the park…while the fantasy side tempts us with her soft green grass, whispers to let go of holding into, to fall into the silk green sheets…the other, logical side of the wall has those signs written all over it :”Do Not Jump”, Hold On To The Hand-Rail” “Be Careful”…yet there is always hope that somewhere by your side there will be someone who can give a hand to support…who will catch if you start falling…and with those strong hands it is possible to close your eyes and make these steps…small and careful, but still – forward…because it is hard enough to walk the thin line, but it is almost impossible to move backwards…
Have you ever feel that need to go to the shore of an ocean, to sit there, to draw some scribbles in the sand, to watch them being washed away…to let the waves take care of your thoughts…and let the winds to take away your worries…
Those were my thoughts mixed with the songs of Chris Rea...
Sandwriting…
Leave your name and let the wind and high tide take it away. Each white gold grain that made up your name. Take it away. Write your lover's monogram upon the cool damp. White gold grain say this is who I am…Yes this is all you are, my friend - some shapes upon the sand of white gold grain. Washed and blown away. With the memory of your name. Take it away. Go tell the story to the wind and sea. What ever became of you and me. Each letter of love That had its golden day. A love song without goodbye. Take it away…Sandwriting…