206 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/17

206 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/17 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
One of my cars way back when….62 rambler, front seats folded back into a bed…
I have put up an image/content for 206 days now, facebook is messin with us…they are all on my blog archived for as long as time rolls on down this social media path.
circa photo early 70’s

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205 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/16

205 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/16 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
dreaming from the shore of a sea
love falling off leaves of trees
all the worlds worries floating by
under this clear blue sky….
when troubles reform to projects of interest to investigate and friends in view become tender and family exposes warm concerns and the world turns into something one can touch, it’s then you will know you have been walking hard along the trail.
Some say there is magic in the air
when things go light and breath is easy and true
that god is beside you always and the devil is just a concept in you
but it seems no doubt that when the process of thought stops in the mind
only magic and mystery remain without a trace of a word in time….
This is possible and goes to prove that he/she without a home is free in a universe that mystery and magic are merely words as a costume for a clown.
My costume is my images and my words, a gift for the few as i drag them across the floor.
Circa Thailand Chiang Mai canal around the old city…2017

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204 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/15

204 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/15 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
You got your troubles and i got mine
some can’t hear, most are blind
some can speak, most won’t talk
makes you want to get off the train
go for a walk

street photography…obviously
symbolism…probably
circa dundas st. toronto, china town 80’s

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203 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/14

203 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/14 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Sunday afternoon with rain lying across fields
and roads wet of autumn
while time had moved in slow
with nothing left to show
the sermon short and swift
and the end just ahead
where the mind shall lift
across the divine to home
Makes you wonder just what was on their minds as they traveled home from their Sunday afternoon church gathering. Strong christian beliefs sheltering their hearts from the cold and damp world surrounding. Perhaps they have it right denying the spark of electrical energy into their homes and the combustion engine into their ways. Perhaps the curse of modern science really has gone against the natural way. Perhaps their visions lie aside the natives earth and man has gone too wrong too far. Perhaps man has not gone far enough. Perhaps you need not know to live right.
circa mennonite country just north west of waterloo on. can. 1990’s

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202 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/13

202 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/13 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
….in that cool breeze of the night when things were different and you were on the wall wavering from one side towards another knowing this then knowing that but unable to squeeze a self out. The train flew by with a bunch of heavens in search of more, headless sculptures walked to and fro, drowning men kept screaming unclear, new mediums filled the air waves,dying frogs leap against the glass to death and you were simple, knitting scarfs for the crippled and playing chess with a screen. What ever happened to the dreams of poets kissing love, the painters throwing roads of colour against a canvas, songs waiting patiently for a throat or two.
The day breaks open like a poem falling off a page, the political mice snarl inside their holes, the whole damn mess gets scraped off sides of streets with news of saints flying thru heading for the ditch. The peanut factory increasing sales, doing well in the capital and bees busy digitizing facts as fast as they can manufacture-um. The critics are all over the social medium with heads dispersed into fragments for the benefit of a few.
Life is coming to an end the way we see it, we have out-thought ourselves, we have held out too long, we are being replaced by crystal, copper and gold. The new ‘on or off’ technology will rule the wise men and the fool. There is no necessity to fear, keep your ears glued to the visions of glamour and your gods of deceit, the end will not kill you, you will not disappear, turn the page, scribble out the text, delete the posts, call your faceless friends and love your self into the end………..
photo circa 90’s kitchener city wall, self stand-in

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200 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/11

200 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/11 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Wall Shadow’s Self Portrait, some call it a selfie
The image on the wall looks like Authur Rimbau, a poet of the Symbolist Movement, late 1800’s… https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Rimbaud
The first poet to create prose verse and more or less shit on the traditional hypocrisy of rhyme; some would like to believe Bob Dylan reincarnated from him.
Back in 1970 or so i met a bohemian poet on the main drag of Little Berlin (kitchener)….i put him up for a few nights, he was eastern european with a hand full of english. When we departed he gave a copy of the book (Les Illuminations) of Rimbau’s poems , i gave him a book of poems by Dylan Thomas.
I left almost all my books in the farm house when we left for the west coast a couple of years ago now, time doesn’t fly, it melts in an out of space like a daydream. Here i sit cafed in a rain struck afternoon in the duncan garage cafe writing words to people i hardly know, will probably never see again and if time twists right i may even receive a few head crumb compliments while i slip down upon their walls into the archives of digital humanity. I don’t mind at all, it passes the time and reminds me of the things i left behind. The rain let up, time to move.
circa poland, turn of the millenium

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198 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/09

198 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/09 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Something i did in the 90’s…….
Crow Space is a Surreal Documentary of the Life and Times of a Crow(Rosetta) in the late and early part of this millenium…shot with stills and manipulated, sandwiched all with 35mm film slides.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g088qlHn1-g

Patrick Wey

Crow Space

Silently the crow spoke
on a shore of babbling tongue
Silver black against a weary sky
sound beyond the ear
still upon the soul
“there is a way into this
just along this crooked trail
ask the snake
at the end, the gate
she’ll tell you what you need to know
be patient
don’t be late”

The door folded
across a broken lake the sky dead
in a ditch
nothing was the way it was
everything in a twist
my spirit searched, it soared
upon this jagged trail
There were cars, boats, planes
dreams out of control
synthetic sex, tv internet
crippling side effects
a whole universe, a mess
inside this show

Down under, the red sand
eyes wide
ready across the dunes
something from the shadow
stretched across the sky
like a blanket, hovering another side
four long truths circled
to the centre i
was crow blue
as the blackest night

There is so much to say so little time
i quenched, i hopped
i could see there was no point
no telling
what the trickster
hides inside
i could see clear as if
for the first time
it is all a test

Now flying
my wings tough
against the wind
like a frozen lake
smashed against the sky
far below i could see myself
like a past upon a path
yelling up, watch
that fake glass
a barrier to the other side

All those dreams
on a long slow train
this steady hum of track and steel
rollin headin south

The vision, the focus
all those lives
all those hills
all my future squashed
all past pushed along this rail

My eyes closed
wings stretched to distance
claws clenched upon the edge
time come space
leave
fly
for evermore
evermore
crow

The crow
hidden like a shadow
in a misty night
hush of windy woods
darkness in the silence
a dream a vision
from long long ago
the world
before the test of time
an old crow lived
and is living still.

197 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/08

197 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/08 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day

His name isn’t Carl, that’s another character in my archives but he claimed to have written Elvis’s first hit whatever that was. He sang it while i continued to sip on my draft beer in the mens room of the Station, a famous drinking hole in my home town a few years ago, a lot of a few years ago. He dressed up in various outfits for the saturday night outing probably hoping to meet a woman or two, even old guys get lonely and want to cuddle up once in awhile. Pete sat across from us and waved back and forth off the stool ready to collapse any moment while the bang of rocks against the shuffle board walls slammed up against our ears and you could almost hear Elvis with his memphis blues singing thru the cracks of the walls. Jeese what ever happened to him with his pipe and stern gaze, you could see him around town once in a while slippin in from the cold in winter nights or dressed all up in summer baby blue for the grand union hotel another local bar down amongst the locals, the ones wasted and the ones getting wasted and all of um waitin for somethin to happin tryin to get it right for the night. I felt at home with these guys the games were easy to understand the thought was simple you could be an existentialist or a nihilist and nobody gave a damn you could walk easy thru the fog get as stoned as you’d like and still keep your feet firm on the ground, there was hardly a soul to shuffle you about. Nothin lasts, you had to move from that, a few nights of that and you had to do something with your life, i mean what the hell we here for, can’t write from down there forever, can’t find god in a bottle, can’t find him anyways but he kept singin like he was gonna get found soon real soon. And holy shit elvis came walking thru the walls and that was it never entered there again.

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196 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/07

196 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/07 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Two nieces whom are cousins, Susan and Cathy Gilchrist Schmidt. I remember that day when they tried to convince me that the Bay City Rollers were better then the Beatles. I had to laugh to myself and thought in a few years people will not even have heard of them, the Rollers that is…..my god they were young. Cathy has since passed away, bless her soul. Young girls along a row of maple trees in the rolling cattle fields of Formosa On.
circa 1976 or so

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195 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/06

195 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/06 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Back in the days when i first met Bruce Gremo. We have been friends ever since. He now lives in Beijing….(an excerpt from the vimeo web site; https://vimeo.com/user6968225/about)..Beijing based composer and flutist Bruce Gremo also performs on bass flute, alto shakulute, Japanese shakuhachi, glissando head joint flute, Indian bansuri, and Chinese xun. Lots of images on google of him.
Thoughts on this photo – I liked the corner wall shades of gray; and the light side of his face against the darker gray side of the wall and the dark side of his face against the lighter background of the wall. I literally remember thinking that when i took the shot all so many years ago. It makes it more 3D somehow and it pops the corner of the wall in and out. Of course, Bruce give up smoking years and years ago.

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194 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/05

194 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/05 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Phil Ogison Aegidiussen walking zen like thru the centre of toronto, happy and free, that’s how i remember my good friend Phil. Wish i was back that way to drop in on him. He has walked a few roads since this era.
circa 90’s i think

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Patrick Wey

193 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/04

193 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/04 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Danny Michel with reflections of Tom Greer in a bicycle kitchen off the alleyway just across from a basement of dreams. We stood perplexed looking for something to do; “hey why not a photo or two”?
Broken mirrors longing for a time zone, shattered memories flying across the universe and sliding straight thru some social media doomed for bits and pieces, landing here right on the edge of some analysis, we sang, ”This is Major Tom to Ground Control’, we’re livin in a tin can, and there must be someway outa here’….and so it goes.
circa, Toms kitchen, Heit Lane Kitchener On. 80’s

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192 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/03

192 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/03 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Coral Andrews with pen and pad in hand interviewing some long haired rock star. I have no idea whom. We were probably back stage wandering about, having fun, doing our thing, staying out of trouble……until later on.
circa early 80’s probably

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191 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/02

191 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/02 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Francesco Anello after some days camping/canoeing in Algonquin Park. We had a few exciting moments there that we shall never forget, sacred and secret. Moments of great depth can surface when you least expect it. Things that change your life forever happen for meanings you make, but the truth, still, lives on hidden beneath the waves. We row on now turned towards something perceived greater. A new road slithers up and we keep rowing into the unknown. That’s the way our lives together as friends had gone. Small sections magnified by our own insight into enormous clouds that would disperse into the changing winds along the water ways. Canoeing with Francesco was all in a life dream come true. Great friend true doctor. Minds must trudge thru the jungle, but my heart is in the highlands with you.
circa, i don’t know, maybe around 2009 or so

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190 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/01

190 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/01 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
JoJo Jo McLeod – way back from where she once belonged.
Some people come quick into your life and leave just as quick. Some stay a long time and find a warm space within your heart. That’s Jo.
We now live an hour away, me on the big island and her on a smaller one, with a twenty minute ferry ride between. Time flies, space moves, age slows, youth grooves, that’s just the way it is….
circa late 80’s

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189 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/31

189 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/31 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Andre StPierre walking thru those cold city streets of Little Berlin one brisk winter afternoon with the sun on his back and wind in his eyes.
A creative artist soul with his humour and finesse spread out now along the streets of inner-town Montreal.
Friends, they come and they go, one day they’re here and the next, gone…..there is always someone moving on, either to the other side or just further on down the line, and if you’re really lucky, leaving a few fond memories behind. Andre, a great guy in my aging mind.
circa 80’s (Kitchener On)

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187 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/29

187 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/29 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Lee Aaron; photographed back stage while Coral Andrews was interviewing her.
Coral and i roamed around thru a many a scene together back in the 70’s and 80’s.
Coral must have written literally thousands of articles by now about entertainment celebrities of all categories.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lee_Aaron

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186 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/28

186 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/28 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Men At Work……but i could be wrong, it’s been a long time.
I like the composition of this shot, could be an event poster image.
Kinda says all it needs to say, rock and roll, guitar, movement. Lots of black space for writing…..just the way i think.
circa 80’s sometime

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185 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/27

185 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/27 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Octopus Lady Offers an Escape
‘How I wish
How I wish you were here
We’re just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here’
PinkF
Circa 2001 aSpaceO

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184 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/26

184 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/26 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
A beautiful woman i remember. She was an inmate in P4W (Prison for Woman) in Kingston On. At that time, up into the 90’s, P4W was the only prison for woman in Canada. Canada is a huge country. Many inmates especially anishinabe had few, if any visits from family or friends thousands of miles away.
It was an honour to be a helper for Vern Harper whom conducted sweat lodge ceremonies here and in other prisons in Ontario.
The woman were always thankful and gracious for our support and work to make this happen for them. I remember hot afternoons working around the fire joking with the women and having to hide my camera when they would warm me that the warden was coming out to check on things. The warden was a nice person with a beautiful golden retriever that she would allow to roam around the yard. The women loved the freedom for the afternoon to laugh and also to have sincere conversations with Vern. There was always difficult decisions members of the sisterhood needed to deal with. The sweats were always hard and rewarding. You could tell from the spirit in the air.
circa early 90’s

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183 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/25

183 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/25 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
my good friend Morris Poile lookin serious…..back in the Kapka days way up there north of Thunder Bay…ceremonies for ten days in the spring and fall.
some of my most precious moments lay along that Kapka river and still soar up there around the mountain, Morris was always there lending a helping hand. a trickster with a good heart.
circa maybe 15 years ago or so.

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181 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/23

181 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/23 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
i can’t keep up. Everything is moving too fast. I can’t understand this world. Yesterday it was so easy to believe. It was simple, things meant what they meant. Today everybody changes so fast there is nothing to hang on to. One day this is good for you and the next day it is life threatening. Makes you wonder if you yourself had it right. Maybe i am just as wrong as the rest, maybe things are meant to disappear, maybe life is nothing much at all. I think i best keep praying.
On the Streets, Circa 70’s 80’s 90’s etc.

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180 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/22

180 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/22 of-by patrick weyhttp://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
He stood out in to the night hidden. Light skimming across his mind. Trees folding arms straight into the sky. Shades of waves blending into the walls. His hold firm bold stern cool, lit a cigarette smoked himself into the scene.
Down the streets of Chiang Mai, heat pouring down the road, soft haze full and thick. Light waves swimming dreams thru the atmosphere bending into his blurry stance. The air wading thru the mood late still into the night, he thought, ‘time can be so smooth when you’re lost in a dream’.
Photo Circa Thailand 2017

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Patrick Wey

175 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/17

175 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/17 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
My friend Stan Maciaczyk thought he had a nose just like Bob’s. It’s Stans birthday today or yesterday or the day before…wow he is seven zero. This image was taken on my very first roll of film back in the late 60’s or the very early 70’s at my friend Don Tuckers house. Don painted that poster on to his wall in ultra violet paints that glowed in the dark with a black light…..wow

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174 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/16

174 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/16 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Andre Bernier and his three kids when they were much younger, Maya, Miles and baby Morgan. Andre passed away suddenly over a year ago. He was an amazing man of wood, anything about wood with wood for wood. I’d like to say we always saw eye to eye, we didn’t but neither of us ever ignored each other and always treated each other with respect. Andre had great integrity and i am sure he is greatly missed by his family, siblings and others. I took this picture in the old school house which is where his family lived. I lived in the front part of the huge one room old school house for a number of years. This picture shows how proud he was to be the father of these three lovely children.
Circa early eighties i beleive

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173 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/15

173 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/15 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Rick Hutt of Cedartree RecordingStudio an acquaintance then friend for 50 years or so. Rick has produced so much music i bet even he doesn’t know how many songs and compositions he has worked on. This in the old Cedartree studio when Doug Biggs was his partner and i hung around there learning computer skills in the late 80’s.
Both Doug and Rick have produced so much for this fleeting world. The list is a few light years long…Rick is one of the most interesting guys you could be honoured to know. Many have talked for hours with him about everything from this to that. Hello there from here.

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172 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/14

172 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/14 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I need a cafe to serve me words. I need a narrow road that leads to it. I need her to sit there and talk sometimes. There is a war outside the door. I don’t fit in this world. The demand to be is too great for this mind. Leave me alone here where i can write for no reason. My mother is dead, my daughter is dead, my brother is dead, there are many that are dead. The cafe is quiet this afternoon and sun light comes dancing in across the tables. The man in the corner is slowly sipping his tea. He looks around half interested in life but no one bothers him. She is talking again about her dreams and some thoughts about a future she knows will never exist. I look up occasionally and wonder, about nothing much, have a sip of coffee then continue to write words as if i was walking. There is a world outside at war. I never really understood what it was all about. People discontented with their lives, bullies pushing others around. The sun glistens off a wine glass and it looks beautiful for a few moments then disappears. The odd customer comes in, buys something then leaves. The day is normal. There is only the sound of soft people against hard dishes and the occasional street car in the distance. I love life today. She gets up and leaves. I write a few more words.

Image Circa late 80’s, cafe in Kensington Market Toronto; actor & friend Lindsay Stewart
Portrait of an Outsider
Alexandra Zaichanka picked this shot from my archives thinking it fit the literature.
I was listening to a CBC audio doc about Albert Camus’s book, The Outsider (sometimes referred to as The Stranger) which i read years ago. I was inspired and sat down and wrote the last paragraph to a fictitious novel called ‘Inside the Outsider’. A few of my bohemian friends fit this description as well as myself it appears.

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171 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/13

171 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/13 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Even the Eternal Source is a Reflection’. With that statement i mean that there is no absolute anything, thought made it all up because of our fear of being simply mortal naked apes that think. All the gods, all the absolute laws, all the determinations to use reason to convince the brain that we are superior beings, aliens, creations in the likeness of gods, all definitive conclusions must be on trial endlessly; logic is no more than a tool to create technologies to explore the universe. There is no higher purpose. The eternal source is merely a shade of an infinite refection endlessly moving changing shifting. There is no great mystery that can be known. This denial is the source of all misery in the mind of man.
We have been conditioned with a need to believe in some formula from christ to buddha, to scientific law, politics, to happiness, enlightenment, afterlives to endless comforts and securities to soothe the fear of being in the natural state of simple unknowing clear observations. This is too scary and meaningless for the ego. Man has not changed at all since the cave man in his discomfort with his neighbour and his self, only the weapons have evolved. Think about it, if you can accept the fear to be without any direction home, no ritual to save you, no ceremony to ultimately calm you, no ideal to hang onto forever. There is no certainty in the mind of man, nothing is and never was. We have been fooled by the fears of the saviours, the saints, the holy men, the logicians. The body is all that is immortal, the mind is the illusion that fades and dies.
I am a man walking thru all history with a duffel bag strung over my shoulder hanging off my back and in my mental strength with my one hand holding a knife i slit the bag releasing the tons of beliefs, ideals, concepts, dogma, certainties, absolutes, sciences, securities, identities, words, abstracts, gods and demons and when the mind freaks out i grab the hole in the bag and breathe deep, slowly, grab my composure, resting into the new lesser emptier identity and when i’m strong and brave again i slit the bag once more and do it all over……….keep walking towards the illusion of the eternal source. Freedom from the known is the pathless trail to be. There is no method, like a coyote in the desert one just lives naturally. This may be impossible, but no more impossible than living with the illusions of ones absurd absolute beliefs and certainly much more honourable to the process of creation…………i suppose.
I don’t care what anyone thinks, i have more faith in the eyes of a crow than i do of any man. They are to the point, direct, real and without the illusions of the self fulfilling imagination of man. I move on from there.
circa 2017 Chiang Mai Thailand

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170 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/12

170 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/12 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
She held me in her hand, swung me to and fro, tripping down this cobble stone road with liquid air bubbling off the melting brick yellow with a sky full with turmoil set against a stage of oceans painted in atmosphere and caressing a magnificent sense of wonder lying in the streets below. Me in the handbag of hopes waving thru the speckled air, transforming into some formless light bending around the air like love in a summer afternoon and her dress free falling as matter disengaging from itself and splattering texture against the wind; she walked free into the day surreal and lovely.
Circa 2001 Montreal, St Paul Street, Old Montreal

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Patrick Wey

169 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/11

169 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/11 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Rubin Hurricane Carter and Vernon Harper….Vern had a short lived boxing career, he loved boxing and one of his heroes was Rubin. Long before Rubin came into his life Vern admired him for his boxing and stamina surviving in a prison for almost twenty years for a crime he didn’t do….https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubin_Carter
Rubin attended a number of sweats down at Verns lodge before the film with Denzel Washington acting out his life as a boxer and prisoner….https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hurricane_(1999_film)
Vern is wearing an honorary Middle Weight Champion of the World belt given to Rubin just weeks before at a ceremony in Las Vegas honouring Rubin. This was one day down at the lodge before a sweat lodge ceremony with the two hurricanes proud. Verns boxing name was Hurricane Harper. The size of Rubins fist is almost the size of my head. Bob Dylan wrote in a song that helped to free Rubin………https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/bobdylan/hurricane.html
LAST THREE STANZAS
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool’s hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed
To live in a land
Where justice is a game.

Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell

Yes, that’s the story of the Hurricane
But it won’t be over ’til they clear his name
And give him back the time he’s done
Put in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
LIVE PERFORMANCE 1975
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QfiK17FhP4g
Photo Circa early 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

167 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/09

167 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/09 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Just another pretty picture, it’s all in the composition they say. The overall surroundings looked nothing like this. Some people say you have to have an eye for it; to pick out the gem in the ordinary.
circa 2015 or so, from some antique shop or nursery i believe.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

166 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/08

166 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/08 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day

Portrait of a man on the street looking straight to me thru his lizard eyes.
By now he’ll be back with his maker and isn’t it strange how we conjure feelings, emotions, liquid conclusions about things that are now dead and invisible. He was well with his gesture from my camera, a simple love in his smile. Someone with a few stories easily melted into his mind, you can tell by your imagination of his heart, by the well worn wrinkles in his leathered face.
circa 70’s somewhere, some city in america.
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

163 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/05

163 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/05 of-byhttp://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Suspenders and straw hats walking thru the concrete paradise
dreams of salvation lying in the furrows of their fields
baseball fun waiting in the sunday afternoon school house lot
generations of mennonite men and boys and dreams real and not….

See More

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Patrick Wey

162 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/04

162 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/04 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
You can’t stage shots like these. Grown ups acting out a taste of their worlds for a flash of a second. Who knows what’s goin on here? Mennonites having fun with my world at their own expense? Possibly they were talking before i got the shot about my camera infatuation and all just a few years before the onslaught of the digital age whereas practically everyone’s a photographer of sorts documenting everything that moves. Us normal white folks used to make fun of the chinese, asians and their obsession with taking a shot of themselves in front of just about every structure on the planet. Nowadays everybody’s doing it. I thought i was unique, perhaps i was.
They work hard, eat fulsome meals, live long lives, pray to jesus and treat the land as a gift from god. Many have a great sense of humour and many live their lives rather like a mule, hard and stubborn. This is just one point of view amidst many; simply for the sake of my image/content for the day. There are moments it feels like an unpaid unappreciated job that must get done. That is the pressure that one impresses upon oneself when one commits to a procedure for whatever reason. One that comes and goes. It is already gone; having fun again. Better quit while things are goin well.
Mennonite Men circa late 80’s but it could have been yesterday.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

161 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/03

161 Image-Content of the Day 2018/08/03 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Death and life walk hand in hand down the road to where?
Past the farms of life for death on top of indian blood
Down the roads where ancestors lived and died
Some in vain some for good and where some still painfully hide
The Heidelberg Hotel serves limburger cheese and mennonite summer sausage on rye bread. I never got to know my dad much as he left my mother with eight children when i was 5 or so. When i was a little older and could do as i pleased i visited him more frequently. A few years before he died i picked him up one day and took him to the Heidelberg and ordered two of the infamous sandwiches. He couldn’t believe there was still a place on this fine earth that served such an ancestral feast…..that and a glass of draft beer. One of the few memories i have left swimming around in this brain some believe is mine. This land held memories long dead passed on beyond the remains weighed down by engraved stone into living eyes here, but this land holds remains of remains of remains as far back as the stars and beyond. We live a short time in the scale of our vast imaginations and time stretches far beyond all that i presume. The i i presume as me has come and will go with a whimper in this mysterious scheme of things.
My ancestors arrived in the neighbourhood in the 1840’s so history says and i came along in the late 40’s of the nineteen hundreds but the previous peoples of this land some claim go back 50,000 years or more. Numbers. None of this matters much to me. There was blood shed, deceit and love as far back as humans walked upon this incredibly beautiful planet. I’ve done my share to walk my walk as best as i can thru contradiction and fiction, to be as i am to be as i am not. These words will crumple as the rye stone returns to whence it came, even the limburger is doomed to become something inconceivable.
In honour of tombstones of limburger cheese and summer sausage and rye bread and beer.
Circa late 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

157 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/30

157 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/30 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Floyd Buffalo Hand…..Floyd Hand is a full blood Oglala Lakota, descendant of Chief Mahpiya Luta. I got to know Floyd and hung out with him in South Dakota and also north of Thunder Bay at a camp i went to for ten years for 10 days twice a year doing sweats and learning about the red road. I also did sweats with him at Verns lodge in Guelph Ontario. He is one of the most controversial medicine men in north America for many reasons too involved to even mention here. He has a voice like thunder.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

155 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/28

155 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/28 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
This was a place i would go to when times end, the place where most people walk endlessly around, where the square is the world, where the buildings are made of cutout cardboard and the cafe feels on edge. In the afternoon the gray people walk their gray walk in a slow hurry to the other side; i felt that place within, that sacred place where saints pray and martyrs hide their sins. With every footstep a melody caressed the air in gratitude for the day, the gray day in all its grayness, a seemingly reasonable way, a gray way with all its subdued glory. The cafe expressed itself with a fine aroma. Espresso served in a grey cup. I was there participated like a prince. Herbs hanging on the wall.
In Poland waiting. She says she is near but things feel so distant. Time is slowing down almost still at moments. Her walk slid around a corner appeared disappeared came close then fell apart again. I loved her in the middle of the gray. Her dreams slithered in beside mine and stayed there awhile full of colour before an ocean caught between us ended things.
The square is empty without her, this time is absent now. Her polish is elsewhere. The gray haze of the day continues as if nothing has happened and nothing ever does here in the square gray.
circa 90’s…..a search for love is vain, it finds you or it doesn’t, it didn’t….Wroclaw Poland Square

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

154 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/27

154 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/27 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Man on the streets of Dublin with two different eyes, one looking backwards and one attempting to weave into a future. Just like you and i travelling thru space with one foot on the ground and the other in our dreams. We spend our full live’s orchestrating realities out of thin and thick wind. We think we see what we see even when the weather has shifted. Some catch on quick, some never hear a sound and live in the noice of their minds till there is little or no mind left. There is always enough reason lying around to prove even the most absurd conclusions. People believe what they want to believe, what they are forced to believe, what makes the most sense under the conditions that roof their shelters. We mostly feel the same, we just walk down different roads, roads of love, manufactured and pure, simple and sweet, complicated, discreet.
We exchanged a few pleasant words and looked right into each others eyes. He was weathered and torn, there was no doubt about that, but he didn’t care and neither did i. There was almost a pint of guinness in that nose i thought, and he wore it well as we passed by.
Dublin Ireland in the early 90’s, but it’s been that way forever.

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Patrick Wey

150 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/23

150 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/23 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Beautiful Sadness’
You ever have one of those days when you feel like you just want to cry yourself off into oblivion? When it doesn’t matter who loves you, how many good times you’ve had, the promises of paradise awaiting within; you just want to be sad, sad to the end. From childhood to old age those days just happen. There is no cure for a melancholy mind. You don’t have to praise the state, embrace it or avoid it. It has its beauty, its horror, its love. It just is.
‘It is a sad and beautiful world’ as said in the 1986 black-and-white independent film written and directed by Jim Jarmusch and starring Tom Waits, John Lurie, and Roberto Benigni. A great classic.
That is where i heard that phrase for the first time and i see it in Sierra’s eyes so long ago so close to my heart. Not everyone has the fortune of feeling such a feeling to such a depth. Our society prefers to smother reality with ‘happy’ everywhere and avoid this wonderful sad aspect of being human. This avoidance can create worse unnatural conditions leading to dependence on psychiatric substances that in the long run cause much more harm than good. It’s everywhere.
This is an amazing book describing this problem in detail…https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anatomy_of_an_Epidemic
Anatomy of an Epidemic: Magic Bullets, Psychiatric Drugs, and the Astonishing Rise of Mental Illness in America is a book by Robert Whitaker published in 2010 by Crown.
In April 2011, Investigative Reporters and Editors (IRE) announced that the book had won its award as the best investigative journalism book of 2010 stating, “this book provides an in-depth exploration of medical studies and science and intersperses compelling anecdotal examples. In the end, Whitaker rejects the conventional wisdom of treatment of mental illness with drugs.”
Sierra was a year or so old here, early 90’s. Taken thru a screen window at a cottage in Algonquin Park, Ontario. She was very sad for some reason staring out at the trees and gray skies. She appeared content with this feeling. I knew this was a great expressive shot when i snapped it and now here it is 25 years later. She’s been gone three years now and i often have a very similar expression when i’m alone inside floating around in memories of her.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

149 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/22

149 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/22 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The Harp Angel of Ireland…Mairead Kelly
I first met Mairead while she was playing her harp in the streets of Cork Ireland in the mid 90’s. We became friends, i photographed her husbands band for promo shots, had dinner with the family and one day we wandered along the cliffs near Bally Cotton for an interesting backdrop for some timeless images. We have kept in touch via facebook. Would be lovely to revisit the cliffs today and i suppose i have, if only in my dreams. I spent many moments walking along these cliffs over looking the Emerald Sea towards Wales soothing my melancholy moods. Sometimes when days are tough, one just wants to die into eternity with such dreams.
Mairead encompassed the epitome of the Irish damsel of the cliffs of heather and grasses of the romantic turquoise emerald sea shoreline. Her harp her wings. Her beauty her beauty.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

148 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/21

148 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/21 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Another Water Colour by Mother Gaia
I am simply a documentary photographer collecting natural impressions produced solely by the water on this earth without any photographic manipulations. A technique that i have been doing now for about 35 years. They never cease to impress me with the billions of possibilities and incredible texture and colour. I have a large collection of trees if i ever get around to sharing them on my site. This is one taken in the last year on the Island of Vancouver here in BC.

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145 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/18

145 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/18 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day\
A mixture of lit past caught in a realm of space. Time sits quietly in the walls. The story is folding over itself, myths are emanating from the mood, a texture of love is diminishing in the corners, worlds are falling all around, everything is concealed. The statute takes the lead, the dance begins again.
Vern knows..
Circa 90’s….gallery of the infinite….( Vernon Harper )

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

144 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/17

144 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/17 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I am there, P4W, Prison for Women, Kingston On. In the early 90’s there was only one federal prison in Canada which meant any women serving a federal crime had to serve her time in Kingston Ontario. This caused great grieve for many women whom came from poor families across the nation and because of economics, never had a visit for years, if ever. That is not to mention the severity for crimes committed by the poor from undesirable backgrounds with racist treatments for people of colour, blacks, browns, reds and women were mistreated the worst. The women of the land, native, anishinabi, native american women were at the end of the end. There are many unreasonable reasons why the native has been persecuted so insanely and especially the women. Far too complicated to explain here but one thing that can be noted is that people all suffer for different reasons and the truth of the nature is that we all are so incredibly similar regardless of race colour sex and age.
This shot was taken by one of the inmates with my camera. I was becoming a common figure as i was returning so often, as an elders helper (Vern Harper), that some were getting to know me and trust me beyond the shield of white and male. I was simply myself, it always has seemed insane to stumble first thru a veil of colour, as if that has any real significance before relating to another human being. Yes i know, it is much more complicated, but one must attempt to see clear thru skin.
Many american natives, possibly even more so then american blacks are very leery of the white man and easily understood but i don’t bother with that realm unless i am confronted with a situation that i need to address. Otherwise, i just live life and do the best i can to respect, love and care for all people and all things.
There is so much more that could be and should be stated here about what sits behind in this photo, the earth altar, the sweat prayer lodge, the prison, the world and the mystery everywhere. Besides all the torture existing surrounding there was a great sense of humour at times in the air between the minds of the sisterhood of mostly native but not all. Anyone with a true heart could find a way into the way of the red road, sometimes it would simply find you….if you were listening.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

143 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/16

143 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/16 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
“You think i don’t know cause the way i’m dressed, the desperate walls i attempt. Well that’s not the way it is. Most of you could never walk the streets i walk but we are not that different. You would do what you have to if you had to but you don’t and that’s the difference. I look for a few cents, i scrounge around for food. Yes, i have relatives that don’t know me, don’t want to know. i have dreams and as ridiculous as they might be, they are not much different than yours. Here, take this portrait and show it around the world, it doesn’t matter a damn to me.”
I saw this shot, felt it, stole it quick, no thought but the camera, the angle, the reflection, the exposure, click………click click……..a nod of gratitude with a blink of the eye in a deep reverence and i moved into new territory. Sometimes it is like that, the ambiance dictates the move, the road pulls and i go.
Circa 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

142 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/15

142 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/15 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
“I see clear like you do when you’re alone full of emptiness and spread out like things are when they are separate from each other in a way that keeps them apart. When you feel like nothing it is different than being in nothingness. Life takes one on many trips thru the mind that can never be duplicated, retraced completely, but we know a few things we know as certain here in the consciousness of bird brain. Love is just a word in the mind but love is also what binds it all together, one might call it the tao. The way is the road in the tao, love is the substance that beholds mystery; the knowing where thought can not go is where it is at. I am just a crow you say; of course you would!”
Rosetta – circa early 90’s

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141 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/14

141 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/14 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
An example of one of my Virtual Graffiti pieces.Yes, i added John to the image and made it look a part of the existing doorway graffiti.
John says, “i don’t believe in”, just about anything, and “imagine no religion too, i wonder if you can”, he also said, “it’s a love that last forever, it’s a love that has no past”, he once said, “you’re all just fucking peasants as far as i can see, if you wanna be a hero, well just follow me’ and “all you need is love, love is all you need” john said a lot of things, he is remembered by so many in so many ways; “There ain’t no guru who can see through your eyes”, “But then again, you’re not to blame.
You’re just a human, a victim of the insane.”, “Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall. I’d love to turn you on”, “Come together right now over me”………..Thanks John, you helped to verify conclusions i also stumbled upon; and your melodies and your voice; wow.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

140 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/13

140 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/13 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘behind the walls lie the answers
on the surface the dream
you must pick one or the other
but neither are as they seem’
I have a large collection of graffiti which i have yet to post on my site. I also produced numerous virtual graffiti pieces which are part reality and part my composition created with the help of photoshop with my own images and others to enhance and create a new concept. There is a fascination with graffiti for many reasons. The history spans thousands of years and it has had many applications. Wikipedia elaborates – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graffiti

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

139 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/12

139 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/12 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
A train of thought, soft in the mind
All those things left behind
Things built with tender time
Things rolling on down the line
Some trains are lame, some sane, some from the heart and some from the brain.
The mellow moods one gets pondering over life and its changes when one lets ones thoughts just curve around the bend just like that train does when it rolls past and diminishes into the invisible horizon. Life is so many things, so many judgements, conclusions, so many trains of thought pulling into the station, letting people on, letting people off, befriending, making enemies, holding on, letting go; trains of thought of every hue come and go into the space of the station. Some change stations, some never leave, some move on continuously down the line. A train is a train is a train…some are full, some are empty, some crash, some are at peace but they all leave the station and fade into the long horizon of the great divide someday.
Circa 80’s, model – someone Lindsay Stewart knew, i believe or wanted to know, can’t recall correctly……my train pulled outa that station centuries ago.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

137 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/10

137 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/10 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Madness on the corner, uncertainty in the street
turmoil in the dream world
where umbrellas try to sleep.
and with all there is, joey’s on the move
classified time left behind in litter bins
truth splattered in the streets.
…..words hardly begun untitled sifted like a scene
can’t determine what’s going on
where you’re going
or where you’ve been…..
circa: america facing forward dragging along phantoms

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Patrick Wey

133 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/06

133 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/06 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Now the wintertime is coming
The windows are filled with frost
I went to tell everybody
But I could not get it across’ – B Dylan
From, “It Takes A Lot To Laugh It Takes A Train To Cry”
HEAT WAVE – how many hot BTUs get hurled into the atmosphere with the invention of the conventional ‘air conditioner’…..truly makes this unpopular revelation make sense, “damned if you do, dead if you don’t”…….image of walking on wintertime earthscape.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

131 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/04

131 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/04 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Happy Birthday Emerica…..Let’s Fake America Great – Again & Again!….You haven’t changed america, when will you grow up, when will you give the freedom you promised; america, is there anybody listening……

America
BY ALLEN GINSBERG….Berkeley, January 17, 1956

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia.
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable private literature that jetplanes 1400 miles an hour and twentyfive-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his automobiles more so they’re all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother Bloor the Silk-strikers’ Ewig-Weibliche made me cry I once saw the Yiddish orator Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have been a spy.
America you don’t really want to go to war.
America its them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

Berkeley, January 17, 1956

Allen, i could rewrite a few words here and there but what’s the point if they never got it then they sure as hell won’t get it now. america, emerica, hollyworld, war, here there everywhere…….there is a good side tooooo, get on, be on, stay on.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

130 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/03

130 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/03 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
David Finlay was a very close friend for a short period of time and as time does, it twists things this way and that. We shared many intense moments down at the Station concurring about the secret societies that govern so much around us behind the scenes right there in front of us. I hear about Dave occasionally off echoes of corridors swinging around from the people and mediums i encounter. As with life in the past, there are always things you wish you had said that you didn’t, expressions to show just how much those moments meant, feelings that transform into shadows, hide in the dust, but they’re there and with a simple flick of the wrist they can reappear but all too often there is nothing but an empty hall way and aging photographs hanging between the doorways to anew. I loved you man, bring on the roads restless and still and let the winds blow. circa late 80’s

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Patrick Wey

129 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/02

129 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/02 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Connie and Wayne Schell back in the day when the 60’s movement blew towards the country and a simpler way of life. Of course simple never stayed simple but there were years of good love for a few. Back to the land, looking back seems so far so close so far. I see a few styrofoam cups with a few plants soon to be legal sitting lonely on the window sill. Geeze it took such a long time, half the hippies are dead now and many served time in prisons all over the planet that cost the world trillions and lots of suffering for mostly the poorer on this earth. Now big business has there claws in like money smelling tycoons do and all will be as it is. Connie sewing something and Wayne thinking about something and me writing something for nothing. By the way that is an ancient sewing-machine for the new comers. Hi Wayne, hi Connie.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

127 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/30

127 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/30 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Vernon Harper standing in front of a store entrance reflecting a sunny side of Queen St. W. near Spadina Ave. Toronto of a shop called Red or Dead. Vern was a great actor, seldom did i suggest much other than a location and he would just take a pose or two and i never wasted time. I seldom let people wait uncomfortably while i grabbed a few images. I usually had the composition worked out and moved into a few angles with a variety of lens lengths and occasionally added some colour shots from a second camera; but all quick, not to have the subject feel uncomfortable, awkward and throw on strange expressions. It’s got to be natural for these portraits to portray something that laymen’s words seldom express….possibly a poets words can shape a Picasso like angle across the terrain but it is still not a pure comparison for a great portrait, just different.
Vern was proud to be Red, but it goes much, much deeper than that. The reflection of the city was always behind Vern, his walk was focused forward into a red horizon.
circa 1990’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

126 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/29

126 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/29 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
When i was practising model photography Leslie Zawadzki‘s mother lent me herself as a subject. I thought she was a natural. I remember super imposing this onto a beautiful long exposure sea shore from Mexico; the old way in the darkroom. Another lost art. The digital revolution eliminated so many art forms in its wake. This is progress reguardless of our intent. It has allowed so many new forms of art an easier entrance into reality but has also opened the door to more mediocrity. As they say ‘beauty is in the eyes of the beholder’…. but they say a lot of things! That original image of a super imposition attempt is floating around here somewhere. If i ever find it i’ll post it.
Ted Zawadzki, hey, show this to Marianne….circa 1977 or so.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

125 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/28

125 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/28 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
This is a pretty picture hanging on our wall here in BC. It is printed onto pexi-glass so has a real sheen to it. The original is a puddle shot somewhat enhanced in photoshop.
Trees and blue skies of simple complexities
weaving the world round
and magic entangled within realities
as silence within sound

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

122 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/25

122 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/25 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
This guy Bob Arnold, was infamous for causing a lot of mischief for a few of us that knew him. He went down with the Station Hotel a few years before it burned to the ground. This shot is in the American hotel, king and queen Kitchener. Bob died somewhere around 20 years ago so we won’t say much. A smart guy but devious like some truth is. Those were the days wasted getting wasted, a foolish thing for the most part but you can learn from the bad as well as you can from the good if you’re paying attention. All in all it is what it was. I always had my handy Minox with me to capture scenes of realities no matter what or where they were; it felt like some sort of mission and as honourable or useless that it was, here are some of the remains of one mans life thru the tunnels of time of the late 20th and early 21st century….of course now everyone plays the game of image-stealing with their handy phones but they didn’t exist in these times..lol, as is said in the new medium growing older in every image….that’s me off to the side….circa late 80s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

121 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/24

121 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/24 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
On the edge of Arizona by the California border at a huge trailer park the size of a small town. Similar to a burning-man event but not quite as extreme. Loads of strange people from all the hippy, bohemian corners of america. I wandered about there, i believe with my friend Helmut, Mike Kleinwhom lives in Southern California but travelled here to spend a few days in my volkswagen westfalia camper van with me.
I was travellin in the south west simply for the fun of it, avoiding the canadian winter and visiting a few friends spread out in the southwest. This guy was just a friendly dude allowing me to capture his soul for a few decades….circa early 90’s

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120 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/23

120 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/23 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
St Patrick reincarnated into a lonely pagan cow wandering in the heather and hay off the moorland cliffs of Bally Cotton along the coast of the emerald sea of Ireland. I lived just a few kilometres down the narrow stone fenced road for a while, once upon a time. I conducted a sweat lodge weekly where as many of the new pagans of Ireland gravitated and a few became regulars and friends. Ireland may be known for green Guinness and a lack of snakes by many, but not by me. Ireland is certainly a magical land and i lived a magical time for the short year remembered.
I was a lot closer than it looks to this infamous saint with my 20mm lens on one of my 35mm Nikon cameras, a very few feet at best…she was full of milk and lovely…..circa 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

119 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/22

119 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/22 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Travelling back to my apartment in Mexico city from Fortin De La Flores, a small town a couple hundred kilometres east of the city where the family of my wife to be Rosa lived. At one point along the windy road i encountered traffic backed up for miles but eventually managed to get close to this sad event of a train wreck. This is one of the many photographs that emerged. The news was all over the front page of the Mexico City newspaper the next day. I believe two engines collided head on and numerous people had died. Living in the big city of 30 million was an extraordinary experience filled with adventure every minute. Dangerous and pleasant moments existed close by as with the extreme poor living beside the privileged rich, sometimes technologies and situations were held together with coat hangers, literally. Sometimes it would do the job, sometimes it didn’t. Not to imply this was the case here.
If i would have submitted this image they would have used it; their photograph was well after the smoke had lifted, silent and still. Another opportunity missed in my estranged career. Circa 1976 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort%C3%ADn_de_las_Flores

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Patrick Wey

118 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/21

118 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/21 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The window sees thru the wall….Eyes meet,
Down by the edge of a down town and a second millennium, in his flannel trousers and a head full of pain he headed in the wrong direction. His name was hard to find and his looks were likewise. The wet from the sweat drenched his heart but it still wasn’t enough to keep the demons away; times took him were he was told not to enter, those crazy places that one has already left.
In another part of a town and the world, she lifted her head to a soft wind, gentle hair black against a night and her shoulders, she let go a gaze that pierced his heart.
The night brushes against the brick, footsteps lay across the valley’s like lead. In a miracle someone catches a glimpse in a red road of dust upon his heals, and he turns up in the ceremony, and someone says, ” hey cowboy, is that red around your throat”, and stretches off into the distance backwards.
She sees the brick laced in night and yellow faces crowded in sacred places, quiet hiding across terrains of mad beliefs and terrible sadness; the silence enters her web like the brick.
His voice is gentle as it reaches a window on the silver side of town, ” that’s the way to the other side”, down towns blocked with heavens from a black book on the edge of dawn.
When he awakes she’s dreamin he’s leavin, comin soon, and carries water from a secret well in flesh of silk and satin and draws him to her breast.
The day spreads itself out like time does when it’s twisted around a bend. From the corners of hallucinations to transparent-dust-forming-dreams, sacred air from the other side, the neons dangle off the brick.
On the trail his mouth is on fire, “Hey cowboy, you comin out here”, the tracks are torn of grime and greed, the shadow of the nite, she whispers in some ancient lore,”(rush of wind a half an earth apart)”.
On the street to ecstasy under construction, signs rustling in the wind, crows cawing over splattered glass, the pavement livin the life in the underground, the kid shufflin thru a long turn out.
In the backwoods by the turn of a century some magic tree is walking towards them, ” you will meet again, this earth is your saviour”, the wind clutches clouds, hurls rain, time and them far apart. Destiny plays fate to the crow, black hair in sea-wind blowing thru space where time is dead, truth laid out like the brick spread out against the alley.
The scent of her golden skin, from the glow of a million moons, whispers in the silence of the earth beneath his feet. Patience falls soft in a gentle rain, two crows sit huddled in a tree blowing across a horizon in a dream.
The day cracks open and the trail reaches out towards the other side. In the room there is new furniture from another piece of history. The window sees thru the wall. The love once so soft hard against the brick dangles medicine from its neck. In the end sage brush smiles to the wind, the sea is wild inside calm upon the earth and two strangers touch.
There is another day waiting in the streets, from Shanghai, New York is sinking and the drum is rolling across the plains. He speaks into the machine, her keypad stretches across the wire but the link is dead.
In an afternoon across the street by the edge of the park, sun glistening off the air, their eyes meet between light years and a million worlds.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

117 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/20

117 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/20 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I spent a month in Puerto Vallarta area in late November and early December of 2017.
I collected a few images mostly puddle shots and wrote pages of text about my existence here on this earth. Images and text to be found here…. http://patrickwey.com/…/in-mexico-gathering-excerpts-gone-b…
Excerpts of Excerpts:
– Everybody’s life is a story but few ever get told. Even when they are told they can never really hit the depth of the experiences that had taken place. I don’t believe in so called non-fiction, i can hardly take anyone serious when i am face to face, anymore than i take myself very serious. Everybody’s life is partly truth and partly fiction, and i get it, lets not quibble about semantics.
– Here, later in the night in my mexican hotel room off in an old neighbourhood and things are clear…….
– The morning is here. The sleep was peaceful and i feel rested and ready for another day upon this earth. I meditate as i walk, as i sit, as i eat, as i observe what is before me. I have no method other than to eliminate any method that may be found. Everything does exactly what everything needs to do.
– – Yes, so you find numerous contradictions here, well, you’re right, there is no thought that can exist without ultimately slipping into contradiction and oblivion. That is why people fear death, fear psychedelics, fear silence, fear any process that disintegrates their belief system, their personality, character, but certainly when death comes a knocking it will surely do exactly that. You can get prepared or not, it doesn’t matter. Enjoy life the best you can, help others when they need a hand, be gentle and let the mystery move you and to be your only faith.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

116 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/19

116 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/19 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I look out everyday at the same people from my small market space here on spadina. I have no choice. I miss my home, my village, my people, my dreams. They said it would be better here. I only remember the feelings of being where i belonged; i don’t feel that here. I walk my chinese down these streets, work all day and sleep restless nights. I do my best to pray my way and to help where i can but my eyes are drained, my love is routine, my praise is weak; the world is gray. I see my children’s children look out onto these same streets and see something, something not quite right. They feel it in their soul, their hearts will break; my love must be strong, carry on, do what i can.
They said it would be better here; i suppose it is….circa – 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

115 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/18

 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Sierra’s cousin James Bernier, the son of Lovely Rita….I knew him when he was young, a real boy character, mischievous but respectful; often wondered how this world wrapped itself around him…..caught that shot just before he was about to do something exciting, but exactly what that was, i don’t know. circa late 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

114 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/17

114 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/17 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Today this little girl, Sierra, would be wishing me a Good Fathers Day, but she won’t be. So, though yesterday on my birthday was mostly happy, today may not live up there all day. Life is living with reality as best as one can, to accept what you can and be grateful for life itself and keep moving on. Today is Vernon Harper‘s birthday he was a rat gemini as myself and he will be missed especially today, being it is Fathers day and since he passed on so recently. Lots of thoughts travel his way today, he was a father of many of his blood and many extended sons and daughters also. So for all those missing a father or a child today, many moments of no words and silence of the heart, where forgiveness and gratefulness reign…..image circa 92 ish

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

113 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/16

113 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/16 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Today marks 70 years of childhood…yup, this naked ape with a bunch of names entered into the 7th decade of life on this planet – as a guest. He never wanted to grow up, hell i don’t even know what that really means….so i didn’t, kept my ‘forever young’ well protected from all the boxes and boxes of repetition, deceit, absolute moronic nature of sheep, responsibilities to institutions and all that fuckedupshit……hey i’m just kidding, i’ve become a very reliable mature adult for the most part; i just don’t take it all that serious most of the time, all that religious political scientific trap is all irrelevant down here ‘where nothing is real, nothing to get hung about’, happy birthday me….and though i don’t enter the news wall of the facelook any longer for a while yet, i still throw in an image/content of the day…..just because…..and thanks to all my friends wherever you are whatever you do, we are all really quite similar when the facades fade, kids at heart in aging bodies. If it weren’t for all the wars in the brain because you believe in that and i believe in this, we’d all be just wild animals living free in reality inside the gates of the garden where strawberries stay ripe in fields forever. Happy Birthday everyone…… happy birthday apeman pat!…….Sasha and i are going to have a lovely day with a few friends in the west coast wind. Everybody’s welcome….really, i never thought i’d ever make it this far down the line, it’s all so sureal, mellow-like….thanks again life and dear friends……a selfie with my friend Sukatu

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

112 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/15

112 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/15 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘The Pink Car Door’, isn’t it strange how so many titles to art work simply state the obvious, how about ‘Mud on Pink’, or ‘Love Wanted’, or ‘The Oval Way’, or ‘Man and Mud Collaboration’ or the easy way out, ‘Untitled’.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

111 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/14

111 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/14 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
This shot is of my brother Allyn, my favourite brother alive. Two have deceased, my oldest brother David and my brother Bill. This was Bills birthday today. Allyn is back east somewhere doing his thing and i’m out west doing mine. Life is so damn short. We had so many fantastic times together. This was the northwest table in the Mens Room of the Station Hotel, the one by the exit with a view of the train station and its desperate tracks. Yea, they used to have a Mens Room that women could enter but in the Ladies Room, men had to be accompanied by a woman. That was mostly all gone by the time our generation came into the scene but the signs still existed. Allyn and i were extremely close as brothers, but as time does, it shoved space between. As most, and as memory can, it ‘takes you down, where nothing is real and nothing to get hung about, Strawberry Fields forever’, and may this take you down gently. Many of my friends sat at this table, we were young and we resolved many of the issues of the world; we smoked dope in the washroom, even a few of us did a few lines i remember. All in all, it was what it was, a room in the structure of life that had to burn to the earth, literally and figuratively. Now, there is a parking lot and a mall where some chose to live as a replacement. Many roads have entered and disappeared, the train station was always on my mind in my view and many of my brothers are now gathered here at the station, waiting for the silent steel wheel to roll once again. I love this shot of my brother, it could be anyone, you or i, the inside and the outside so vague, even blurry but the everlasting wall is sharp and distinguished but boring and dark and ‘a wall’……My brother Al, more than most by far, supported my creativity in any area i chose, no matter how great or inferior it was, here’s to you brother Al, and all brothers……circa78 and timeless.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

110 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/13

110 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/13 of-byhttp://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The old and the new in a harmonious conflict with horse and horse-power at odds in the streets, with one way of the many-horses heading who knows where and the other wanting to ponder for a longer while in a more simplistic proven method of field and barn. This mennonite woman in her cool sun glasses shops the downtown of KW on a lazy Tuesday Afternoon with her Moody Blu

See More

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108 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/11

108 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/11 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Kachina Doll Blessing the Desert Earth………..this Spirit Symbol was specifically made for Sierra a year or so after she was born, by a medicine man on the hopi reserve in Arizona. I had never heard of such an object when i named Sierra, ‘Kachina’. Sometimes things happen with continuity way beyond our imagination, maybe always….. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hopi_Kachina_figure ….i took this image on the way home from the Arizona desert lands surrounding the Second Mesa of the Hopi Nation early 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

107 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/10

107 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/10 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
SIerra Kachina – In honour of her life that ended three years ago today at 24 years of age. This shot was Sierra so happy and proud of her new baby sister Baylee Nguyen only a few minutes old, that seemed to take forever to come out of her mothers womb, she thought. There are too many thoughts that emerge to consider writing much at all today, so i say no more and that says it all…. Sierra was five in this image.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

106 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/09

106 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/09 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
SIerra Kachina has been gone three years now. There is nothing i can say here about that. I miss her. I had loved her more than life itself. She was a true unique spirit, a revolutionary here.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

Words about Sierra:

Writing words you will never see
editing pictures you never saw
killing dreams we never met
living around lies tangled up around us yet
crying alone into fading memories
a busy numbness surrounding often
and you and me ending again
this time forever ending within
i see this thru vague scenes
that crumble into one another
drenched in pain and love
as they move along the trail
with a crippled weakness into the day
and words to you i will never say
i write to no one but the stream
of endless dreams across the purple sky
the universe that comes in clear
the universe that closes when the dream ends

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Without You Sierra
sometimes it tears tenderly to my heart
sadness where it has never gone, goes.
a year passing without you
your little heart and mine
twisted into each other like time
i gaze across the highway to the grassy fields beyond
the silent wind bends around invisible canyons
straight into my mind
your essence emanates soft and deep into me
with dry tears i caress the moments slipping by
there will never be anyone so true to me as you
our bond was woven by the mystery of love
no one can alter what was so clear
that alone gives a graceful comfort
this pure sadness against my path
your delicate sense breathes life into death
i need no promises, commitments, no proof
we knew we were special
a love so rare so true so threatening
we lived thru this with the most fragile of hearts
now thru this fading silence
with nothing but the humble caring of the wind
i love you with your tears upon me
nothing can harm you now
you are safe from this world
and all its misery
i am seeing this with my hidden pain
as i walk on without you….

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There are few words left to say
i know in my heart there are no ears of yours to hear
what can never be said to you ever
you’re gone and love feels so empty without you
i have learned that this world is even more cruel than imagined
fake everything lures everybody into so much of little worth
they have little room for real tears
no time for true sadness
only shallow laughter and smiles against the rain
ultimately they are afraid to face their own mortality
they need to blanked it with tender wit, swift gestures
hidden desires leading secure beliefs to selfish love
They are the lost children of the american dream
stretching across every continent
desperately hanging onto every note from the popular song
caressing comfort with their broken bodies
falling alone down into cancerous heavens
to worlds they could never be
They are my brothers, my sisters, my friends and my foe
they are the celebrities cared for more than neighbours
more than the blood across the land
more than the mother in the land
the father of the other hand
the truth scattered into words
blasted against the walls of your brains
and in this context everyone is to blame
the dilemma of the human insane

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In this beauty one must weep. The overwhelming understanding of pain from loss is so sad it is beyond comprehension. It goes so deep one can only cry tears from memories dying and the letting go of its truth, its reality. Admitting that it is hard to live life one must let go of the dearest feelings; all the tangled ones and all the gentle and soft ones. It is hard to see this in the air, all the clusters of memories contained in one soul and spread out across the minds of the people. The close ones the distant ones the collective ones, all of different quantities and depth, moving in and around as a dream does.
When one dies and the entanglement of thought-energy floats thru the atmosphere as a spirit would, the visions of these holographic scenes may be more real than a normal reality appears. This is pure vision with no interpretation from a past, a future, just the endless flow from one scene to the next. The magnitude of this impression is life altering.
You can feel the waves of peoples thoughts and dreams, with their spirits creating intricate delicate holographs of varied scenes floating thru the forests along creeks veins like an epiphany from ‘nature’, the creator of all known. I cried, knowing i had to let go to live. It will come in small doses, not as to destroy me, little by little till i carry on alone. This may never happen. This is the dream, the dream will change, the observer will be altered, vast death is the nature of all this. It will come regardless of what one does. It is this movement in life that sees this death and the illusions of dreams as necessary branches to this tree, as life is a dilemma.
————————————————————————————————————————————————————
the days go by and you fade beyond my will
every step another distance without you
memories slip in and out of the air surrounding here
some are peaceful and serene and others are dark and deep
when the pains you felt, lived through and died with
punctures my heart like a knife with tears
the road curves up ahead and your presence is near
there in the pale afternoon where your love lies
and the sunset full of your colour
there are the photographs and your remnants scattered about
there are memories hanging on the walls without you
you meant everything to a few left behind
and they struggle down the path alone
and there is no answer fit
to why you left the way you did
no conclusions can soothe this heart
it is what it is and love and you are one
there is nothing along the cove
to replace this shore on eternity
memories will continue their journey across the universe
and fade into the void beyond
but for now there is nothing left
just you caressing this heart
and a spirit feeling this

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

my heart aches for you
your simple smile your delicate wit
your ways and your life living
i miss you terribly so
i am so sorry i did not do enough to save you
to help you in any way i could
to share everything i have with you
i never expected it would end so quick
what a fool i was in moments i could have done more
could have poured my heart unto you
given my every touch of love
i am so sorry, forgive me
nothing i can do now for you
i am lost at moments crushed with pain
devastated to my very being
like a boat without water
and a soul with out life
i am alone lost and numb

i see the road the way and the things to be done
i walk with one foot in the desert and the other on unknown land
i am a man stranded with no home no future no dream
i remember your breath searching for air and your heart for warmth
i walk i walk i keep walking
there are moments joy slips by and noise ceases
there are those that say too much and those that can’t listen
the ones with ideals overloaded and the ones crawling down the avenue
i miss your presence, the weight in your eyes
the truth your lips concealed
i miss you, your simple love
i miss you

i can never be free from you
you are a part of me
some of you is inside of me
and i shall die like that
you and me are a memory
that will be as long as forever is

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

little angel up-against the tomb
on a road red as heart
spirit fallen from the sky
with no clear answer why
and with tombstone tears
a wounded kachina cries
“for simple love i live and die”.

“i’ was much, much too young to die”
————————————————————————————————————

I wish i could say what can’t be said
and do what can’t be done
i wish i could do magic
and bring back what’s gone

i am loosing the words to say much or anything at all
now is not the time to

we all want to know what can’t be known
it is the nature of thought
we all want things we can’t get
we all want teachings that can’t be taught

there is no easy way
to heal a wounded heart

you can fly high and dig low
you can tell yourself sweet little lies
you can tear yourself apart
with things you wish you’d done
but there is only one thing that can really help
hidden deep within the heart

—————————————————————————————————

105 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/08

105 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/08 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘The Ghost of Mennonite Past’ – There is a graveyard i had found in Mennonite country north of Elmira On area that had a few acres of pre-engine farm equipment. At the time the owner, My Bauman, i believe, told me he serviced people as far a Belize whom still farmed the old ways. I would go there occasionally and photograph the dead and dying remains of an era slipping away. I asked him one time if i could photograph him but he was shy and i said don’t worry i’ll get you as you work, no posing. I got this ghost like image with my camera on a tripod and a slower shutter speed. A few months later i went back and by luck he was there and i presented him with the photo. He appreciated it but it was no bid deal for him. There are many other images in my archives. That’s the story for today. circa 80’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

103 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/06

103 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/06 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Annie Toman‘s niece…Ali Sage….we did a photo shoot in a graveyard for old cars that are now even much older than then, and she is too, somewhat i presume……The few acres of old cars were sold to some wrecker in the states i heard; long gone now……in Ayr On. late 70’s i think.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#100 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/03

#100 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/03 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I picked this shot to celebrate my ‘100th image/content of the day’ because these are the real un-named heroes of my collection. The ones in the streets with stories few have ears to hear. This guy hung around Kensington Market Toronto. He felt honoured to be a subject of my interest, at any rate, friendly and conducive to my swift professionalism. I don’t take long to grab a shot. I like to capture the essence as best as i can. He was crouched down so i did to and without hesitation flicked the shutter three or four times. I was prepared, i knew the shutter speed, Fstop for the conditions surrounding; no time to adjust gods main light, or rearrange the subject. You have to get what you can get with tools and material available.
I saw him numerous times and though i don’t know his real story; i felt he was an intelligent man that fell into some bad luck a little too deep to comfortably emerge from. We said a few words, i gave him some change and i parted. He didn’t want my pity and i didn’t give him any.

#99 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/02

#99 Image-Content of the Day 2018/06/02 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
John Miniham is a famous photographer from Cork Area in Ireland. I had the pleasure to hang out with him in his home a few times and also went to a writers get together at Oscar Wiles home in Dublin and photographed numerous writers of the time as his guest. He respected my photographic ambitions and told me numerous stories about his ventures with Lady Diana, his close friend Van Morison and his encounters with Samual Beckett, William Burroughs, and more. He was extremely generous with his contacts and hospitality with him and his wife was simply ‘Irish’. A short Doc below with his Wikipedia link…….circa early 90’s
https://yt.ax/…/photographer-john-minihan-in-cork-for-the-…/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Minihan_(photographer)

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#97 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/31

#97 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/31 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Mel Brown husband of Angel Brown…..and certainly a Blues legend from KW to Texas….Leonardo Valvassori played base in Mel Brown and The Homewreckers… wikipedia article states the numerous people he played with….WOW…. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mel_Brown_(guitarist)…me and Mel went for a stroll one afternoon to take a few shots for some tabloid from town that i can’t remember the name of. I think it was on the front page. Everything turns into memory then fades away.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#96 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/30

#96 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/30 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Pride Parade Toronto Circa 1990…A number of my images were published in a Scholarly Book Entitled ‘Queer’ from this event. I had the book but left it in Ontario with tons of other stuff when i downsized and moved out west. Some friends consider me weird but that is not the same as being queer. In the sixties when someone was called straight it meant ‘not hip’ (didn’t smoke weed), that changed with the times also. Now i tend to think everyone is somewhat peculiar, possibly queer, mostly straight and definitely weird.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#95 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/29

#95 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/29 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Carl was a gentleman, always respectful and gentle in his nature. He drank at the Station Hotel, the American and the Grand Union; the East End was too rough and the Walper too gay. I traveled about and drank cheap draft beer in my younger days when i lived in studio spaces downtown between my ramblin about the world. I liked these characters, all with a history more interesting and tragic then the folk in the suburbs. All these local hotels are gone, burned to the ground or face-lifted out of recognition. Those were the nights of hard philosophy, wasted dreams caressed with friends, a time when the future was friendly, moments of deep love in the heart of the metal jungle. Where is all that now, that which we thought would live on, if not in forgotten corners of melancholy memories and twisted terrains slowly rusting away. Love, love, love gets its way…..the american hotel circa 1978 taken with my Minox 35mm camera

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#94 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/28

#94 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/26 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Hello FaceBookFriends….I’ll be short! I am sorry if i have offended anyone especially with my lack of LIKES on your content. At my age i have taken on a lot more than i expected and now with a new unrelated career in the last year or so, i hope to possibly catchup financially, but have no time left for much else. I promised myself to eliminate Social Media for the most part, so i don’t get to see other content that can often take up more time than i can afford and consequently i miss viewing your content.
It has taken me years to collect images, develop negatives, contact and make prints; then i picked roughly 20K from 120k of colour and B/W’s and digitized them. That took years and each one still has to be adjusted and cleaned up to upload properly…..I know if i don’t expose them in the coming years i will die without having to share them with friends & humanity. Therefore i am determined to put up one image a day for an undetermined time period. I hope they are enjoyed. By the number of likes i get, i wonder at times but one must do what one feels appropriate for ones life and this is it for me, for now. So thanks to those that comment and ‘like’ these content/images and the effort it takes to make this happen…..cheers, meegwetch…….circa 1976 selfie

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#92 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/26

#92 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/26 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Ted Zawadzki‘s wife of past and friend Marianne. I was attempting some Rembrandt lighting for my portfolio in my very early years of portraiture. Hello Marianne wherever you are, we had many great talks together. This lighting technique is generally softer and gives a natural look with both eyes lit and easy to do with minimal equipment. Many variations with a triangle of light on the one side without a shadow of the nose alone. Rembrandt used this lighting in most of his paintings because of the superb way it exposes the softer beauty of the subject. In this case my friend without question is very beautiful.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#90 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/24

#90 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/24 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
BOB DYLAN MAY 24 1941
There are so many words well placed by this guy
for some people that have ears to hear
and here are but a few from ‘It’s Alright Ma’
on his 77th birthday…..
Wow, you lived a real sureal life Bob
thanks for describing my feelings so well
with every word, ‘like it was written in my soul’

Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not fergit
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to…..bDylan

I created this fake poster from one of my photographs;
just for the fun of it………patrickwey

Full version of ‘It’s Alright Ma’…. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYajHZ4QUVM

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#88 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/22

#88 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/22 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Hornby Island BC last Sunday exploring the amazing shore line with Heather and Doug Biggs. Yes, this is a puddle shot with an etched feather-like image of two trees. I am working on a series of trees reflected-painted-etched by Mother Gaia water-coloured puddle images. Ultimately, i prefer the image to dance on its own as with this beauty, but occasionally photoshop lends a hand.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#87 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/21

#87 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/21 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Sasha Alexandra Zaichanka dancing across a puddle of an image from my mind on beautiful Hornby Island BC yesterday exploring the amazing shore line with Heather and Doug Biggs. The sandstone sculptures lace the waters edge like a terrain from a sacred space rarely imagined.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#85 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/19

#85 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/19 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Rain came pouring down, i was someone else, could have been a dream, not sure, so real, maybe another life time. I was traveling home down slippery streets, it was late in the afternoon, my brother behind heading from a church service in Heidelberg. I made it i recall from the memories left inside my head but my brother didn’t. I wrote these few thoughts down and scrambled onto something new, left that dream behind. Next day reading a local newspaper there hidden down in section two a short paragraph describing a mennonite man disappeared returning home from a church service with a broken photograph hanging from the text like a dream does when it makes no sense. It is all so surreal i thought this life and all its dreams…..the photograph was a peculiar shot, didn’t even look like me………could have been the late 1800’s, i was thinking to myself……….

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#83 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/17

#83 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/17 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
A great wedding indeed Paddy Gillard-Bentley and Cas….26 years ago just yesterday.
I remember i was dressed like some weird traveller from a far off land like Mexico surrounded by a medieval wedding celebration in Europe somewhere. It was, yes, one of the most unique weddings ever. Take us back…..if only for a few long moments.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#82 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/16

#82 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/16 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I am afraid Vernon Harper never got to see many of these images, but many he did and i am sure he remembered the numerous moments we wandered around town together as i photographed him under so many circumstances. The only person i had documented so thorough in my life was my daughter Sierra Kachina whom passed away three years ago and also never got to see many of the photographs i took of her. Vern said, ‘often in life, you don’t get a second chance’. I had the strong urge to call Vern a month ago, and minutes turned into weeks and again a wake-up-call now lies sad in my heart. I have often thought of a book to find a home for many of these images but time and money has not allowed this to come together….perhaps now i can attempt to make this happen, if the ‘mystery be willing.’ Vern definitely did ‘live before he died’.
circa late 80’s early 90’s off spadina ave, toronto.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#81 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/15

#81 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/15 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day

The original poem i wrote just after Bill died and before the funeral, is in the blog linked above. It was recited by my Jesuit priest friend John Veltri who encouraged this exposure (not of my premeditated thoughts) while my close friend Bruce Gremo played classical guitar. Many had attended and were sitting on the floor, standing to any corner left inside the room. Bill had a lot of friends, he was just thirty when he died of cancer in 1976, May 15. He used to joke with our sister Carolyn Roche that life begins at 40 and he let go of his pain that night on her 40th birthday. She is 82 today. Bill left behind a son Chris Smith whom he loved very much and often talked of him privately with me. Bill was my best friend, my big brother, three years older than myself with my brother Allyn in between whom also is extremely close. Lindsay Stewart ink sketched this picture from a photograph superbly and i thank him for that. The family had so few photographs of Bill. I was just beginning my life in photography that year therefore i have no images of Bill at all. I miss Bill often and i suppose i will till i’m also dispersed into the great mystery. If we’re lucky we have a special person in our lives to help us up when life gets us down; we did that for each other, and nobody has quite replaced him in that way since. His life in death has taught me many lessons. It never ends…….not yet! …….. remembering you today and sharing for the ones that might care….happy birthday Carolyn.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

 

IN MEMORIAM

As he lies there
slowly turning to ashes
And time, past and future
all hurled into one
pointing our lives
to this tormenting moment
This shock of death
piercing its way
to our very souls
leaving – no escape
only tears dripping from eyes
hoping our pale cheeks
can absorb and calm the pain
This passing
completely unknown – to all here
right out of our hands
it has its say
without so much as a whisper
from our dampened lips
Tho, the fact
black as coal
still – leaves us uneasy
The glass of life
smashed
crumbled to bits
and remaining
only fragments to cherish
to linger indefinitely

Silently, the memories will come
and they will come
and come easy
for this man was a good man
a good, good man
like the rustling of the leaves
of some forgotten autumn night
and, lonesome of this world
it’s then, he’ll reappear
as the true friend he is.
the very image of his honest eyes
will say more
than a million written words
and to those who knew him
your memories will ring true
with the lessons
he has given
to his dying breath.

the pain we share
to see his vacant presence
there, in that form once his
can’t compare
to the suffering
in his long – last days
his eyes, truly in agony
his body, tormented to the marrow
now – in rest
slowly turning back
to whence it came

I pressed him, gently
with my hands
as his last breath
eased from his lips
and faded, slowly
to the heavens
and i felt deep, within my heart
the miracle of love
It would be Bills wish
to turn our pain – now
and forever
to the warm glowing love
let it be done

And may God
through brothers like Bill
make pure – all our souls.

GOD BLESS YOU BILL

your kid brother, pat

#79 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/13

#79 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/13 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Vernon Harper I remember so many moments with Vern. We travelled to sweats in the prisons, across canada and the states. I spend one full day a week with him in Toronto for years when he worked for the Native Legal system and we’d go to healing circles, asian lunch on Spadina, pick up a boxing mag in a little store on Bathurst, be together and talk about everything under the sun, many personal conversations about his past and struggles within the dominant society’s ways. Vern was a very sincere man and though i have not been with him for years he has been in my heart since the day we met. He encouraged me to document that past of his live through-out the late 80’s and and 90’s. The original of this image was taken in his sweat lodge. It feels appropriate now knowing he’ll be conducting sweats on the plains of the spirit world and enter our minds for many years to come. My heart feels for his family and the inner and outer circles of his life. Vern has brought peace to many a weary heart.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#76 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/10

#76 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/10 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Theo Cotee Harper on the deck of a ferry ship around Martha’s Vineyard on the Atlantic side. Vernon Harper and his wife Jerilyn and i travelled there in my Volkswagon Van visiting friends. I remember Vern leaving his long relationship with his hat behind….not sure if he ever got it back. He had it for years and it is in many of my photographs. A great trip, there were some beautiful moments i remember. Cotee had a little purse with her that day……Circa late 80’s

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#75 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/09

#75 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/09 of-byhttp://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘A young woman emerges from the earth and dances into the light’….
The daughter of David Fougere….tho forgive me i have forgotten her name. We did an amazing performance together once where she danced to a tune of her dads, ‘Sacred Ground’ i believe, with a backdrop and foreground of images chosen and dissolving perfectly into one another creating a beautiful metamor

See More

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#74 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/08

#74 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/08 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
My close friend for ever it seems, Carolyn DIebolt. Doug Biggs and her have a son Theo Bunsy Laroo and family…..Caroline sister of Kevin Diebolt……..wearing a beautifully embroidered blouse i brought back from Guatemala in the 70’s. She is a touch older and still wonderful…..

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#73 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/07

#73 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/07 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘Even The Eternal Source Is A Reflection’
I uploaded over fifty images from my trip to Thailand to my website http://patrickwey.zenfolio.com/p776377158. All these images are reflections off the canal that surrounds the old city of Chiang Mai. This canal is straight and slowly flows stagnant water, unlike the curved roofs of the ancient structures within its walls. I remember reading somewhere how this curvature was to avoid the evil unnatural straight energy of fire dragons versus the curved natural vortical movement of water and the water snake of life. This stagnation allows for the beauty of reflections included in my PuddleArt Series which i have been producing for years. Water has been imprisoned all over the world. Water is the foundation of what we call memory, consciousness and if one is aware that we are life forms derived from a ‘Living Earth’, it would be intelligent to pay attention to all aspects of water, from LaoTsu, Viktor Schauberger, Ancestral Wisdom the visions are everywhere. Some day hopefully soon i will be producing a book of these and other reflection images with poetry and text.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

Even the Eternal Source is a Reflection

Dreams are like reflections, everything is…

dreams and reflections are one and everything

reality is a reflection

words are reflections

dreams are made of reflections

everything is reflected

the deepest thought is a reflection of the simplest

where we are is where we are not

life is a reflection of death

silence is the greatest reflection

the dream is never over, it has just passed

a reflection is like love, it is always on the move

thinking is knowing, knowing is a reflection

a dream is a dream is a reflection

everything is a dream

reality is captured reflections, it is melting

no matter how still they appear, they are moving

thought and dream and reflections are one and two and….

true love is like a pure reflection, a simple dream

thought is the killer of silence, silence is the substance of everything

the melting smile of eternal twists

a perfect reflection is in the eyes of the becoming

the depth of reality is on two sides of the surfaces

dualism is the illusion of two worlds reflected by one surface

the perfect reflection is the perfect moment

a moment is a point in a refection which appears still

now is rejected by reflection, therefore life and death

the now appears to be silent but is moving still

re, it’s in your body, it’s in the air, it’s in the land, in the aquifers, the mountain streams, the creeks, the rivers, lakes and oceans. Water is everywhere, it’s in your tea, it’s in your bacon, it’s in your beliefs, it’s in your dreams, it’s in your lover, it’s in your enemies, it’s in your religion, it’s in your science, it’s in your music, it’s in your business, water is in everything. Healthy water, healthy everything, sick water, a dying world. Water gives life, water takes away life, honour water and it will honour you. Shit in it and it’ll shit in you. Feed it carcinogen’s and it will teach you with cancer. Dissect it and it will dissect you. Water is the reflection of the soul, water is your life, water is the vessel of light, water is you, you are water and water is everywhere. How is Your Water?

This is my opinion based on numerous endeavours into the depths of the mind, the so called spirit world. With many experiences with what may at first appear as other dimensions, spirits, higher thought embedded into my mind, i have investigated the one tool that binds all of this together and found illusion after illusion. There is nothing more than my coyote instincts to be alive. I can not teach anyone anything and no one can teach me anything. I am a being upon this earth for a short time. I developed an identity from societal conditioning and stepped out of it numerous times to see its facade. It has been frightening at times because the ego does not want to die, but die it must to see clear. There is nothing to find, the search has ended, the search itself has been the biggest hoax of all. I have nothing to live for and yet i live. I have nothing to care for and yet i care. I have nothing to be and yet i am. Sometimes i am happy and sometimes i am sad, sometimes i am interested and sometimes i am not. I look just like you and no one can see what i have seen. The world is trapped into its nature. The body knows all i need to know. It owns me, it is the environment. It all begins with the body. It all ends with the body. I am merely a dream sitting in the home of a mind. The illusion has seen itself, like a reflection in the water i am gone.

#71 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/05

#71 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/05 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Wroclaw Poland https://www.facebook.com/wroclaw.wroclove/
In the centre of the city is this beautiful square inside a square of old brick, stone and youth live from a long history of persecution in from the winds of west and east.
A mime dancer in bare black and white with ancestral memories too dear to expose. Years turn into years and time twists down the bent roads of minds like a gray day does within the shadows of life. There was a slight breeze of melancholy that day, dull from an awareness of a past; lives shattered and splattered against walls and yet a magic encircling hypnotized the space in beauty and tender thought . Life has its way of moving on. We do move on. A rose is a rose is……

circa very late 1900’s

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#70 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/04

#70 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/04 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
see no evil hear no evil speak no evil leaves one in a world made of paper bricks and flowers scented of polyethylene and a great seat in the bleachers out on highway 61………Image circa 76 of beautifully aged spectator believer women feeling their heart cry for the pope when he came to mexico city to the main square in the centre of the city. I was living their, teaching english in the heart and documenting whatever where ever as best i could.

Patrick Wey
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#69 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/03

#69 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/03 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I was 21 in 69……I have an unedited/unfinished very personal intro/middle to a part of a Memoir that i plan on completing someday,……contact me privately if you want a read and i will give you the link (can’t trust Facebook with copyright issues)
I have tons of unfinished work, as many do. This was a dangerous time with many of us youth experimenting with alterations to the brain and with ‘battle lines being drawn’ and ‘Far between sundown’s finish an’ midnight’s broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing ‘. Love and war were on the river in the wind and i was the captain of a ship heading thru mysterious seas, unknown islands and with ‘no direction home’…….image circa 1969

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

I was 21 in 69
Posted on May 2, 2018 by admin
99-12-01

I was 21 in 69, my hair hung down around my shoulders, i had a black mennonite hat, a double vested black coat, black kid leather angle shoes and a pair of black jean bell bottoms with my black shirt. That was the way i dressed, that was my essence of the times. Many dressed with colourful outfits, it was wonderful, everybody did their own thing and we all seemed to appreciate what ever anyone wanted to wear, think, everything was cool. I was a ring leader of sorts in this community, but always in the back edges. I began my quest in to drugs in California in 1965, i was 17 and i took a bus the 3000 miles to visit my best friend Helmut who moved their when we were 15. It was already happening there, the Stones and Beatles had just started smoking grass, Dylan was writing songs no one could understand except for a few lines and the intense meaning that howled thru his lyrics like a hurricane. Frank Zappa just came out with Freak Out and i could only listen to it stoned. In those 4 years the times were exploiting, thousands of kids hit the roads, hitchhiking out west, California, Vancouver, New York, Chicago. I must have put a good 100,000 miles on in those days. I’d be back and forth between California, Vancouver, up the coast, down the coast, the mid west, the south west, freight cars, whatever got me there, but there wasn’t anywhere to get, it was all just to experience the road, see nature, disgusting city slums, beautiful people and not so beautiful people. Drugs was a big thing, we loved to get stoned and watch the world turn, it was a quest into the mind, some didn’t make it, too much for their heads. I look back with great reverence for the psychedelic times that taught me many things….

In 69 i had been fired from a life long career job of construction estimating, they knew that i knew this would never work, i was a marxist at the time, LSD was very much apart of my life and i was only interested in truth, art, love and life…I had been going with Carolyn thru all this time, since i was 17 tho she never did any drugs herself, she accepted my quest into the void but the differences were beginning to reveal themselves. Our tastes were becoming evident that we were going in different directions. By this time she was living up in Ottawa about 300 miles from Kitchener and i didn’t see her as often. She was good friends with my friends and their girl friends and well respected but while she was gone to Ottawa all the girls started doing acid and grass and things began to shift quite radically. It was around this time that Sue came in to the picture. The first time we got stoned together we had such an amazing time, we really were totally in tune to each other. One thing led to the next and before long we were seeing each other all the time, sleeping together and deeply in love. When two people do a psychedelic together the bonding can be very strong, but especially if you are very in tune to each other and already attracted to each other. This went on for about 6 months and then i hitched to California for a few months and wrote to Sue and kept in touch with Carolyn. I was beginning to really feel the dilemma i had allowed myself to enter. I was aware that i truly loved both women and had no idea what to do about it.

When i got back to Canada, Sue had moved in with a bunch of my friends and i just moved in with her, we shared a single bed in a room with a few other friends. We were all communists at the time, but there were only a few of us that really took philosophy serious and the quest for truth was not everybody’s real focus. They were more or less what we called weekend hippies. They liked the drugs and they just could not really be unselfish enough to think of a world where every body may be on more of an equal basis. Most of my childhood friends were polish. There was Les Krynicky, Ted Sajakowski, Stan Mycysic(?).

I could go on and on but what i am getting at to you Ola is something much more serious. My relationship with Sue was great, we had great sex together, we really got along really well. On the other hand was Carolyn, she was like a goddess, an angel from a Leonardo DaVinci painting and i knew her and felt save with her. Carolyn moved back to Kitchener and i told her about Sue and she was very hurt about it. We started to see each other a-lot but i could not get Sue from my mind. Carolyn started to do psychedelics with my friends and i . My better friends were Joe, Don, Bob, and my brother Allyn. Though there were many friends that i hung out with, i was in to film, photography, writing reading tons of literature on many subjects and doing drugs in a fairly good way I did not drink alcohol at all in those times, we all felt drinking to be very archaic and down right stupid. I spent a-lot of time alone thinking and diving into the unconscious like some explorer out in the sea. In many ways i was the strong minded adventurous one of the group.

Well it was right in the middle of all the excitement happening everywhere with a magic in the air that had never existed in the history of this world as we know it. Many say it lasted a few years, but i say it was really about 9 months. Only a few could really feel the intense vibrations emanating across the land but many were blown along the current like leaves along a river. The songs that came out in that short period of time still ring the bells of LOVE loud and clear, though many of the artists have become sombre, lost and even bitter for what was and never really shone. I could go on and on about the changes that took place from that short moment in history. I can’t deny that yes i believe that LSD and Sacred Mescaline(derivative of peyote) was the catalyst that pushed the last millennium in to awareness. The native american Indians have prophesies that talk about the Rainbow tribe of the ancestors of the white man that slaughter them, that they would come back and show them the way. Now very few Red Men will admit this these days, but there are some elders that know the truth and say that yes the Hippies, the Drug Users of the Sixties led us to retaliate. Wounded Knee take over in 1973 in South Dakota, storming of the parliament buildings in Canada in 1974, led by my friend and teacher Vern Harper.

There are many movements that took place because of the explosion of the sixties, a wave from a smaller group of renegades from the 50’s called the beat generation.

All of this is a part of my story. In the middle of all this i found myself in the middle of being totally in love with two very beautiful women and dealing with the contradiction of communism and the lies of Propaganda to convince the ignorant of what they don’t know, to truth about love and freedom and the mess of capitalism, to the dreams in psychedelic heaven…… I didn’t know what to do , where to go, who to believe, so i did what i thought was my best choice. I went in to the country and i searched for a place not too far from town and yet secluded enough not to be disturbed. I found a place along the Nith river a few miles out of a small town called Ayr. The river flows under an old metal bridge and just down a short distance a small creak flows into the Nith. Just back from the river up the creek many cedar trees form a very secluded camp. This is where i went to solve my dilemma. I have just learned in the last few months 1999 that this is called Cedar Creek. Very appropriate to my path of today.

2nd LOVE

re: Ola…..since these excerpts are letters to you but also have the intentions of evolving into a book, i may overly describe some things that may seem overly evident to you. Also i may decide occasionally to include more to you on any given day, just because i’d rather talk to you in now time, in-fact , i’d rather talk to you most of the time, but then i’d never get any work done. I do have a major teaching in mind that will become increasingly evident as time goes on. Back to “Don’t Mess with the Medicine”, a title for now.

In the Sixties there were many issues and circumstances that let into the space described as the Summer of Love and there were also as many happenings that let us into the Seventies and on to now, the year 2000. Timothy Leary described the Turn on Tune in and Drop out generation in many documented articles, it is too vast to include the many influences that took place in these times, there was an explosion in all the arts, but by far it was music that tuned everybody in. All the other forms of media were dominated by the ‘Establishment’, as we put it in those days. We became Anti-establishment as they labeled us, Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll, that’s what the media wanted the world to believe about us, they were paranoid, thousands of kids were dropping out and saying Fuck this Shit, this is fucking crazy, the worlds gone mad, ‘we gotta get outa this place, if it’s the last thing we ever do, baby, there’s a better life for me and you'(Eric Burton and the Animals). I could go on and on with lyrics from the Sixties, but i suppose John Lennon said it the simplest, ‘All you need is LOVE, Love is all you Need’ and Sergeant Pepper still stands as the best album ever. It is a master piece of continuity, heart and spirit. All in all there was more magic in the air for more people at one time then this world has ever seen from it’s four corners, since the last time this world was inhabited across the globe, if ever. Now of course, people from other generations may be offended thinking their youth was the big one. Well all youth is the big one, but i truly believe that many that didn’t even come close to the Sixties know that something happened very very big there, deep, very very deep. There is no doubt that my time there was amplified by the facts i am about to reveal.

I can’t express the feelings i was experiencing with my love for Carolyn and Sue. I couldn’t bare the thought of being with one and not the other, i was torn, there was no one i loved more than the other, i loved them both differently and equally. The best advice i had was from an older woman that i worked with in the construction firm. Betty turned me on to Leonard Cohen and a book called Cosmic Consciousness, very rare in those days to find anyone that was into anything along that line in those days..She said go out east, get away, they will still be there, if it is true. I stayed and went down to the river and spent 3 or 4 days there with out so much as seeing another human being. This took me on many trips, i did mescaline or lsd, whatever of the two in those days. It was quite clean, as things deteriorated as time went on in the world of underground drugs was concerned. It is without a doubt that i have forgotten many of the visions, the experiences of those days. What i do remember is the drift of the whole trip and certain traces of visions. My intentions for going there and doing psychedelics was specifically to determine who i loved the most or how i was to decide on whom i should be stay with. Little did i know until about 16 years later that i was performing a ritual with a sacrament and moving into the real underworld of the subconscious, spirits, the medicine world.

The beauty of the nights were miraculous, the horrors of my mind were intriguing, frightening, amazing and i learned many ways to over come my fears. I learned to have faith in the process, i had never come off an experience on a bummer. I always conquered the nightmares with integrity, my will to survive and to face the truth no matter how difficult or scary it was. Most of my experiences for the next 5 months were done alone or with a very few people,, very close friends. I quit the group that i had originally started to talk about the world but because of Martin and his in depth knowledge of philosophy, marxism, art music etc., we were let in to Communism. It really was the best answer at the times. The only philosophy truly written for the people. Well, this is not the place to go into any depth about politics, but i will say this. I could never quite accept the aspect of propaganda necessary to convince the ignorant and or stupid people to do the right thing. Dylan in a song ‘It’s Alright Ma’, said “Propaganda all is phoney”. Well on one of my first trips involved with these new intentions i had some sort of vision telling me to quit this path, this group and that one could never convince anyone of anything, only true example is all we have and who knows how long it may take for the people to follow the right road. Jesus’s images crept in and out of my thoughts and i knew without a doubt that it was time to move on. I need no logic to express that only Love was important, i couldn’t tell my friends, but they did feel and see a major change take place in me. There were a few times that real changes took over me in those 4 to 6 years or so. This was the third great change, and by far the deepest. I have had only glimpses of this world since. I remember one time with Carolyn around this time and we had done acid together and to express how deeply i loved her, and also loved Sue, i put on a record for her. Head phones was a new thing in those days. All the new technology concerning the record industry was totally controlled by the new bands and psychedelic music and the new market it was creating. My friend Joe had the best sound system around and that is where we hung out the most. The song i played was To Love Somebody, an Animals version. There is a part in the music where it is extremely emotional and Eric Burton is singing ‘you don’t know what it’s like(about 3 times) and then ‘too love somebody, to love somebody, like i love you’. Well Carolyn flipped out and was screaming and couldn’t get the head phones off, while i was in the other room. I ran in and got the phones off her head and was realizing all the time that she was just beginning to understand the depth of what i was going thru and the love that existed in this triangle, of her and Sue and myself. I felt terrible, she was pushing me away, crying, and Mary, Joes girlfriend, was trying to calm her down. I don’t think she ever experienced anything so torturous before.

It was hard on all three of us, I was only seeing Sue very rarely. She worked in a bank down town and every once in a while i just had to see her and i would go and see her for lunch. I learned from some of the other girl friends that Sue was fainting, blacking out at work and she was hurting so bad, she was goin nuts. She never really got over this.

It took me years to really understand what happened here. I continued to do acid or mescaline, tho i much preferred mescaline and now i also understand that relationship to the earth. Timothy Leary said that acid was Atomic and mescaline was Organic in vision. I always agreed with him but it wasn’t until i did Peyote years later with Annette in Mexico, Christmas Day, in i believe 1987, that i really began to understand Mescalito, the spirit of Peyote.

As the weeks went on, i was still no closer to the truth than when i began, concerning the two. My mind was expanding into realms i had barely dreamt of. In this period i had many visions, out of the body experiences, messages that i couldn’t understand for years and many i still don’t understand, but i know they are sacred within me, within you, within all of us.

I remember that usually i did a trip on a friday night and stayed up all night and often cleaned myself up in the morning and went to visit my mother. We’d sit in the back yard and she’d take me around and show me all the plants and new flowers blooming and we’d talk about life and pleasant things. It was the first time that we really got to know each other. I know she could tell that i was changing rapidly and something very magical was taking place within me. She might have even suspected that i was stoned. In those days no one knew the depth to these experiences except the users. In a sense, nothing has changed. It may sound arrogant, but the only thing i had to compare my new awareness to, was that i felt that i was seeing a world that was very similar to what i imagined St. Francis of Assisi’s world to be like.

To document the feeling inside of me i washed up one Saturday morning after being stoned all night and i went and had a portrait of myself done by a local established photographer. I give that blow up print to my mother. I forgot all about it for 25 years and when i was going thru all the photo’s that had been left to me in my mothers will, there it was. I didn’t recognize myself at first but felt a very strong connection to a past, still so close within me. I will post this print later.

By now Carolyn moved out from Joe’s where we were both living and moved into an apartment by herself. She could now see the dilemma i was in and in-fact was extremely compassionate towards me, but felt helpless within herself.

Soon after this, within a few weeks i was alone at Joe’s on an acid trip and i was very into the world of magic, the molecules of the air were visible, all exterior objects were in a state of eternal melting, everything was melting like a candle, but without growing smaller, it was eternal. Light danced across the room in speeds of light itself, atoms were shooting into my eyes like a 2001 Space Oddessy. Science and art had melted into spirit, electricity, waves, words floated across the room, everything was alive, imagination, and the world outside became one, nothing was not of me; i was everything, i was all that existed, everything was made of me.

It was then that I was given a way to an answer, this was the only way out of my situation, accept suicide itself, so it seemed. I had to promise to take the answer and live by it. I was told to focus all my energy into following the way i would be given. I had to make up my mind between the two and live by it. Either one could make me happy but i knew i could not make up my mind myself so i asked for help, an answer, a way to make a decision. I was given a very simple answer. Flip this coin and have Carolyn as heads and Sue as tails. It felt like the truth to my problem, it felt right, it felt sacred. I flipped the coin. Within a week or so i moved in with Carolyn. I never told anyone about this and i knew it’s depth, but i could never have known what was to take place in the very near future.

I had a very good understanding with both Sue and Carolyn, they both loved me dearly. Sue and i had a freer relationship, a better sex life, but Carolyn was like a pure angel, Sue was more magical.

I continued to use psychedelics and i was writing alot of poetry, listening to the latest from the best. Dylan’s new Nashville Skyline just came out, which was his most romantic album ever and to quote a verse from one of those songs which epitomizes my feelings and obviously his also of the times.

“Love is all there is, it makes the world go round

Love and only love, it can’t be denied

no matter what you think about it

you won’t be able to do without it

take a tip from one who’s tried.”

Shortly after i moved in with Carolyn i was up all night on acid. She was sleeping and i slipped in beside her. I was lying there when all of a sudden an energy came into the room that transformed her in to the ugliest creature i had ever seen. Still to this day i have never seen or felt anything so terrifying, demented, evil. I freaked out so bad that i literally jumped out of bed and crossed the room in a flash of a second and i could not look at her. Carolyn awoke immediately and realized that something very strange had taken place. She talked to me and i eventually told her a little of what had happened. She was great, she kept talking to me, but every time i glanced over towards her she started to emanate this terrifying entity. It was the freakiest presence imaginable, but little by little i could look at her longer and within an hour i finally felt ok to see her. She asked if i wanted a hot chocolate. We huddled in the small kitchen and she prepared it. While we were sitting there and i felt this immense love and caring for her, something very astonishing took place. She began to illuminate like a perfectly pure angel glowing with a softness and blended colours on her face that i have never seen the likes of to this day.

Within a few hours i had felt and seen and smelt and tasted the worst horrors of my life and also the most pure and beautiful. Somehow there was a message that was very strong that is difficult to express in words. This awareness appeared to be that beauty lies within what is visible, a gift from the great spirit, that to see clear is to see the truth, that beauty is what is before your judgement enters, to see what is, not what you would prefer. Evil, is the karma of control, manipulation, it enters to teach. I may never understand or be able to express the lesson within me of that experience, but i know inside how to feel this seeing, this clarity, this beauty.

After this experience i began to feel more and more like a vision of a saint. Everything was sacred, every life was there for a purpose, there was beauty everywhere. I had no problem relating to anyone, or anything, i was in a dream that no one could move me away from. I was within total confidence that i was living within the truth of the most holy, the most sacred the most pure.

I suppose this lasted for about two weeks or so. This was a very long time to be transformed into something that i had no idea could ever exist. It felt like the most purest state of mind that a human being could achieve. It has been many years since this headspace and i have thought about it many times. I have not mentioned it more than a few times and i have always been careful of whom i would share this with.

This was the most significant period of my life and yet somehow it has only been allowed to reawaken within me in the last few years. It was up in Kopka, which is north of Thunder Bay above Lake Superior Ontario, which for the first time about three years ago that i mentioned a few of my visions of this past period to an Ojibway medicine man, Oliver who is my teacher as i speak. I follow what is called the Red Road, which i will be explaining as time goes on.

Ola, i need a break, i just want to talk to you. This writing is bringing many thoughts back to me, but the way i feel right now is that if i could i would forsake all of my past to be with you right here now…..this is a novel that i am writing, that has become evident and it is totally wrapped around you. I will be pouring my life out like a bucket of water, cool cool water. It is odd, but i suppose if one truly feels deep as they travel thru this life, the one ever present is the one that receives more love than any in the past. That is how i feel towards you, yes Chrys is fading, but she is not gone.

Carolyn is by the way still my friend, she lives out west and we have kept in touch and have been together many times. Since we left each other, we have never slept together, somehow that was never a desire for me. I can not speak for her.

I am surprised that i have written as much as i have and i hope i can keep this up. I know that i am motivated to tell you my story because there is some very important lessons entangled within this web for you. There are also some very important messages that will unfold into lessons for both of us. This is a living piece of work as all pieces of art must be. I best send this now.

Slodkich marzen from Patryku

#3 insects

Dzie dobry Ola

so nice to think of you first thing in the morning. this world is so crazy, hollow headed people everywhere, computerized memory response, videots in every scene; so nice to fantasize about you, to be anywhere with you, just away from this grey madness…a blanket over our shoulders, waves crashing against the rocks, a wind, a sun, a sky, grass green, you with silent eyes.

I know it is frustrating for you not to be able to write in your mother tongue, take this hug full of sympathy, this gift of empathy, this love of mine. I walk on thin ice, my truth, a ghost from the past, suffers with all honesty, i have walked as i have, one foot on the road and the other free, stumbling, flying.

There is so much more that could be said about this period of time, so many stories. I remember thinking about so many of the other so called hippies. I never considered myself a hippy, there were also yippies, which were intellectual hippies, i never related to any of that stuff. There were so many hippies wanderin around talkin about this and that, tripin out along the streets, visions, a dime a dozen. I never bothered too much with other groups, tho i knew many people and was always apart of the scene, somehow i stayed in the background. One thing that definitely separated me from the many was my respect for Bob Dylan. Even though Bob was well respected by many, not many really listened to him. Most street hippies were in to all the rock and roll of the day, there was Morison, Joplin, Henricks, the Kinks, we could make a list a mile long. There were ones that influenced others, but never really hit the lime light, there were others monopolizing on the flavour of the scene. But for the most part it was that little pill called LSD that distinguished the phoney shit from the good stuff. There are many theories about why this chemical came on to the scene as it did. Albert Hoffman discovered this substance in the early 40’s, but it wasn’t until after the bomb in Hiroshima of 1945, that his very accurate experiments this time revealed this extraordinary substance that altered his life for ever. It wasn’t until the late 50’s when Leary, Ralph Metzner, and the future Ram Dass experimented with LSD at Harvard University. There is tons of literature about these times. Leary believed that it was the bomb that altered the atmosphere or the intercellular relationship with mother earth that allowed this creation to take place. There is evidence thru people like Terrance McKenna, an Ethno Botanist, that animals threatened against their regular migratory routine will find hallucigenics as in Psylosibin Cubensis, a mushroom found on many continents, and they will eat quantities of these mushrooms. I have the same theory about humans, that when we get closed in we need some way to expand in our inner self. Hallucigenics is one way of traveling into the unconscious mind, this has been practiced by Shamans for centuries. There is also numerous sources on the subject of drug use, but i kinda like William Borroughs quote that he doesn’t like drugs that make you ‘twitch all over’. In a sense what he is describing is the difference between the Barbituates and the Psychedelics.

Cocaine, speed, even ecstasy and numerous of the counter pharmaceuticals are classified as the twitching type, they can make you grind your teeth, all in all they are a dulling of the senses, a narrowing in on a few areas of awareness. Psychedelics on the other hand are a totally opening up of the senses, and an awareness across the gamut. There is no doubt that our society prefers the barbituates, the legal drug industry has made billions and billions on the anxieties, and stress that is so common with the american way of life.

The main influence for myself in the sixties were a very few things, Psychedelics, Bob Dylan, and my love for two women that took me on a trip that altered my life forever. Sure there was many other things that altered, influenced and changed my life but in one way or another they were interrelated to these three. Bob Dylan turned on the Beatles literally, literally, with weed and words, we could say weed words. Dylan influenced just about every rock and folk song writer of the day and is still standing on the foundation of post modern times. There is no doubt in my mind that he took the world, shook it up, woke it up, wound it up and no body has come close to his magnitude. A few minds come to mind of artist with similar intensity, Shakespeare, Arthur Rimbaud, that’s it, i can’t think of any other in the last millennium. Anyways, i can honestly say that Dylan’s songs helped me out enormously and possibly even more than him himself in areas and times of need.

I have had numerous dreams with Dylan and we have become good acquaintances in these dreams. Lennon has been around, along with the other beatles and surprisingly enough, it was Paul who really treated me with respect in these dreams. Neil Young visited me a few times also, but all in all these dreams always had the reality of really existing somewhere in that other world. Who knows, you can believe what you want to believe, i just leave it open, who am i to know.

So like it could have been foreseen, things started to change. This was the beginning of my dream coming to an end. I would wake up in the middle of the night with a terrible nightmare. I haven’t found anything quite like this to compare with these nitemares. At first i had no idea what i was terrified about. This all evolved quite rapidly, within a few days i was waking up a few times a night with these terrible dreams that insects were trying to devour me. They were tall sizes. From a creature the size of an ant to the ugliest insects 60 feet long. They looked like a microscopic close up of insects from this world but uglier, more terrifying and with the strangest sharp loud piercing screeches imaginable. Sure, i had had flashes of nitemarish activity while i was on acid or whatever, but this was different. Specifically designed to scare the hell out of me, for me alone, and realer than reality. It took about a week, if i remember correctly before i could hardly close my eyes and there they were, huge insects walking over me, on me starting to suck on me, gooey, slimy, grossly coloured guck dripping from their fangs, mouths, eyes. Hair sharp and singular, long and scratching my neck, my chest my body. And more coming, the glue, the deafening high pitch screech of insect world, fuckin terror, man get me outa here, wake up, open my eyes, oh my god what the fuck is happening with me. Carolyn couldn’t understand, she didn’t know what to do, i didn’t know what to do. The doctor didn’t even come in to my mind. I thought they were all nuts, they didn’t know what the fuck was going on anyways. They’d probably shoot me up with drugs, bad drugs, i didn’t trust their drugs, and for the most part i still don’t, nothin much has changed. So i was stuck, i’d get up write some words, listen to some music, go for a walk, have a herbal tea, get my mind off them, the bugs. I was getting to the point that as soon as i would think of them i could almost see them coming in the open space of my awakening mind. It was getting scary and i had no where to turn. I didn’t trust any doctors of any kind. I had already had my experiences with their narrow views, shallow medicines. Friends had been thru that walk. I didn’t believe in the establishment. There was absolutely no one older than myself that i trusted. No one had ventured into this territory before. I was a pioneer, an explorer and there was no turning back, but how could i continue on. I thought of suicide, but i had only really entertained the idea of taking my life because i had no reason to live, never because i found things too tuff to deal with; well maybe a few times. I can’t remember exactly how long this went on for but i remember that i was just about nuts, couldn’t close my eyes without insects attracting me, was so tired, i had been up for days. I couldn’t continue, physically, my body was giving up, i wasn’t eating, i was in real bad shape.

I remember as if it was yesterday. I lied down and i said to myself, to them, alright, take me, eat me, devour me, i surrender and i closed my eyes. I remember the sounds of insects having a feast, a feast of me. They all had there different techniques, some pierced me with long tubular mosquito like needles, in my neck, in my eye and sucked out my inner juices. Some slobbered all over me with their stinky, sticky, gooey, slimy coloured syrup and took hunks of my skin in their slurpy mouths. Larger insects came and pulled my arms right out of their sockets and others shared in on the feast of eating my body parts.

I could continue but i believe i have painted a picture to make you aware that it was the best horror show i have ever seen. On another level i was realizing that no matter how much they killed me and devoured me that i was still in existence, my spirit was of another nature, life is spirit first, the body is a gift.

To this day i have great reverence for insects, and generally they don’t bother me, i welcome their life.

Ola, i need to go out…well i hope you like this writing that i am sharing with you…..it gets better, or worse…anyways , tell me something, anything, i’m cold…..

maybe a hug would work much better.

talk later

patryku

\

4th messin with magic

It is all somewhat vague around this time period, there were a number of experiences that i have never had since. It was a vortex of psychedelia, magic was everywhere, i hesitate to write certain things in respect for the people involved. Carolyn got pregnant, we were planning on getting married. We were going to my child hood church to see a priest for premarital teachings. The priest became quite confused dealing with me, he couldn’t understand that someone could exist without believing in a god or not believing in a god. I simply had no true knowing inside of me so i chose to be honest and claim ignorance. He could not marry us without me believing in Jesus, so i told him, well, i don’t disbelieve in him. Through frustration he just left me alone. He was pissed off because we were having John Veltri (the Jesuit in the Documentary about me) perform the ceremony and of course then another priest is coming into his territory and politics and money become the issue. Anyways, it was announced in the church bulletin a few weeks before and the priest was furious when i called him and told him we had decided to cancel the wedding. Carolyn got an abortion, it was 3 months old and it was a boy. Yes there are regrets i have, i don’t believe i had the right to take this little life from this earth. I know that Carolyn also regrets that decision. I pray to this day for the spirit of that child, i feel fine about it now, i have been forgiven.

My nitemares were gone but i began to get terrible headaches. We decided to split up for awhile and i left and moved in with Wayne Masters. Now there was and i presume still is a real character. I met Wayne a few years earlier buying some hash from him. We started to hang out here and there. Wayne started the first Coffee house that this city had ever known. It was called The Fog, it was off on an alley way down by the railroad station. We’d go there and smoke dope and listen to bands from the city’s in the south of Ontario, blues and heavy underground rock. I don’t think we even had a name for alot of the music that was happening. Wayne never grew long hair, always had a moustache and was more hip then the hippest around. He was totally into anything, electronics, film, optics, colour science, making wild clothes, growing marijuana. At the end of 69 i moved into a student residence of all engineering students except for myself and Wayne. We had one large room and we’d work on electronic amplifiers, colour organs, speaker cabinets and what ever else we thought was cool. In those days the hi fi equipment was behind the quality needed to satisfy this new generation of music lovers. It wasn’t likely that we were going to all grow up and become what the last generation became. I learned alot hanging out with Wayne and it was good to get me away from my childhood friends, family and of course Carolyn and Sue. I remember getting a call once from Mary that Sue was over there, so i talked to her and we decided to get together. That was the last time i saw her. People would ask me years later why i didn’t go to her. She has never loved anyone like me, i know that, she told me a few years back on a phone conversation. I wanted to see her, just see how she looked, how she was, but it became apparent that she was afraid she would not be able to control herself. I caused her so much pain and it took me years to really understand what happened there. I never truly understood why i didn’t just go to her, it was only a few years gone by. Carolyn and i hung on to each other for another 4 or 5 years before she finally just went out, with infact a close friend of mine, and that ended it for good with us.

I have never told Carolyn or Sue this. I have never had the opportunity to express my thoughts to Susan, i have wanted to for years. Carolyn had often told me, go to Sue, you love her. Somehow she was taken from me, i had no right to her, i had forsaken the medicine. I never knew any of this, i never knew the seriousness of medicine in relation to the spirit world. It has only been in the last few years that i have become increasingly aware of the workings of the medicine world.

When i took LSD and Mescaline with the intention to find an answer about Carolyn and Sue, no one knew this but myself. I asked to understand LOVE, to know love, to know who i should be with, Carolyn or Sue. Now, i understand that many in the world would and will find this odd and even ridiculous, but i have learned that Mishomis( the word i use to depict the great mystery, god, nothingness, whatever that web is) acts in incredibly mysterious ways. I can only know what i feel i know, I know that i promised to be honest with the answer, to follow the path that the flipping of that coin would state. I tried to hide the answer, i don’t know why, we all needed to learn these lessons i suppose. The flip came up tails, i was supposed to forget Carolyn and go to Sue. That is why Sue flipped out so much, her spirit knew the answer, she knew we were destined to be together, her whole being could not understand how something so perfect could go so wrong.

That is why i never when back to her, because the spirits took her memory from me, they gave me headaches that were so bad, i was in pain all day long for about 9 months. I was a mail man thru out that winter and everyday i would practice breathing exercises and little by little i conquered the migraines. I refused to go to a doctor, i refused offers to take legal drugs. Somehow i knew that i had to conquer this myself and i did. That summer i went to California with Carolyn and started film school in the fall of 1970. I moved in with 3 other guys after i returned from California and we became known by some as the Doon Crazy’s. Doon was the small town that the college was in, just a few miles from Kitchener. We did some ‘acid tests’ there where we had almost a hundred people all stoned on acid. We had 3 or 4 film projectors going, with loops that we’d paint as they flew thru the projectors, we had hand manipulated slides of amazing colours going on a few walls, and a life band. We lived in a huge older hotel, one huge room with a separate kitchen at the end. We served rice putting and our famous balls of molasses. All in all it was a great time. My headaches were gone, i was emotionally unhappy with Carolyn, but i never seemed to really understand that for a few more years. I did alot of really creative stuff back then.

It was just before the end of the semester when i packed my school days in. I didn’t like the prof, he was a Chec with some Documentary to his name from his home land. He couldn’t understand that things were changing rapidly, there was a new breed of colour coming in to view.

Anyways, i started playing guitar around that time. My friend Don who i had known since grade 7 was playing and so was his younger brother Mike. They kept bugging me to come around, they had started shooting speed in the spring of 71. It’s a wonder some of us have survived from the sixties. I suppose when i think of it, some didn’t survive, at least with all of there faculties. I started playing guitar the first time i shot speed. I knew one chord and i literally played for almost 24 hours. Speed was fantastic for feeling the music, i can’t denign that. That is why so many in all those bands did speed, cocaine, and then morphine, heroin. It was for the music. But all good things have there price. We know enough stories of the many that have ruined their life’s because of the use of drugs. I shot speed for about 3 months or so and then that was it, never touched it again.

When we grew up in the sixties we didn’t have any mentors to give us the dope, so to speak, on the dope. So we had to figure it out for ourselves. Do you think that for one slice of a moment that we in our wildest imaginations ever thought this world would end up here. No fucking way, it’s worse than it was, everybody is misusing everything, mistrusting, mistreating anything and everything. Yea, it’s worse, there are more divisions. Divide and Conquer, that is the basic principle that has been used for eons. There is less and less unity in the hands of the good guys, us, me and you. Money rules, media serves money, money owns media. The greatest freedom right now is pornography. The best selling drugs these days is sex, it’s sold legally to minors, it predominates every media mankind has invented.

Anyways, back to my story. What happened to me that became much more clear years later is two things. I did something that is common within the teachings of any medicine path. There was no one i know that had even an inkling of any of this. I had no idea why i was chosen to learn these lessons. This is, only now, becoming evident of my destiny.

The first shamanic practice i did was to use a medicine with intentions. I have payed dearly for not listening to what my heart had told me. The second shamanic quest was to allow the insects to devour me. This is called dismembering, which is not something that one can decide to do. It has to be presented to you. This has now happened to me again, since i have walked the red road.

Ever since the insects started to come into my dreams, i had started to become paranoid in the world around me. I would smoke a few tokes from a joint and i be like i was on acid, and i knew that none of my friends could or would understand. I had gone way further then where any of them would go in their complete lifetimes. I did know and yet i did not know all of this at that time. I couldn’t play all the games that were played any longer and yet i was not within the grace of the medicine, because i had gone too far and then i abused it. I lied to myself, i hurt others, i was tortured by my own failure to do the right thing.

I was not aware of all this because i was in pain, i was paranoid, and yet i had to struggle on, life would not wait for me to get it together. So i continued to hang out with my friends, i continued to be creative, i began playing guitar for hour and hours.

to be continued

#68 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/02

#68 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/02 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Jo McLeod holding an image patrickwey took of Iggy Pop (https://www.facebook.com/iggypop/?ref=br_rs) one night when he got to hang out with Iggy and the Stooges back stage (https://www.facebook.com/iggyandthestooges/?ref=br_rs)….Jojo is a close friend living close-by on an island real and virtual all wrapped up in one…. Jo is the owner and amazing creator of OM Design Jewelry fit for a Queen, the real queens…… no queen is an island always….come visit..(https://www.facebook.com/jo.mcleod.374)

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#67 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/01

#67 Image-Content of the Day 2018/05/01 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day

liquid sky
spring love radiates across damp air
live energy glows from a long night
water glistens of harmonic dreams
pursuing things perfect and all impressions right
a tender brush stroke from pure simple
with a sky as liquid and sun as white
makes this weary world a mystical wonder
as it flows curved sure into sight

Circa a few days ago with my eye-phone

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#66 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/30

#66 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/30 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
sometimes you try too hard and your spirit runs out of gas just to find out the whole damn technology has moved into a new terrain and the games change and the way is no longer the way and what you once thought was clear is vague and uncertain and you’ve been misunderstood misrepresented even shunned for a world that doesn’t exist a crowd mad with a predestined emotion floating up above somewhere and where does that leave me down here amidst the nature of things moving in with the process far beyond and out of control of the mind of man and does it all matter here when so few see what there is to see with just another day as glorious and dying and changing as the last…..this must be the beginning, what else could it be!
(an interpretation of my relationship with film photography versus the new world of everyone now a photographer, a journalist, a critic, a politician, advocates for peace, for war, for one belief against another, the inter-net and the likes)…photo circa 90’s i presume and route 66 looks alot like highway 61 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1i_Q9NDGJk)…lyrics..(
“Highway 61 Revisited”

Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”
God say, “No.” Abe say, “What?”
God say, “You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’ you better run”
Well Abe says, “Where you want this killin’ done?”
God says. “Out on Highway 61”

Well Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose
Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes
He asked poor Howard where can I go
Howard said there’s only one place I know
Sam said tell me quick man I got to run
Ol’ Howard just pointed with his gun
And said that way down on Highway 61

Well Mack the finger said to Louie the King
I got forty red white and blue shoe strings
And a thousand telephones that don’t ring
Do you know where I can get rid of these things
And Louie the King said let me think for a minute son
And he said yes I think it can be easily done
Just take everything down to Highway 61

Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren’t right
My complexion she said is much too white
He said come here and step into the light he says hmmm you’re right
Let me tell second mother this has been done
But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 61

Now the rowin’ gambler he was very bored
He was tryin’ to create a next world war
He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor
He said I never engaged in this kind of thing before
But yes I think it can be very easily done
We’ll just put some bleachers out in the sun
And have it on Highway 61

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#65 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/29

#65 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/29 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
It’s Your Birthday Sasha…..love is that way

it is after midnight
the air is quiet
and outside the light is dark
i ponder by the road side
where our love began
and watch the gentle rain upon our hearts
the seeds erupting from the earth
i can feel the wind blow
i can see the silent truth
i can touch you there by the evening of our hands
dancing the dance of love by the magic of the moon
i can feel the empty land of civilization in the distance
the wasted life’s of millions by the road side ditch
the sadness is beneath my wounds
the torment twisted upon the shores of hope
and all faith smothered by the weight of it all

i remember the gentle emergence of our spirit
as one with the cosmos and love sprinkled
around our souls like angels in the sky
i remember your heart pressed against mine like a magnet
and nothing in our minds but this wind

the day breaks upon this night like a dream
i have no hope left, i know nothing
i am but a wave upon an eternal shore
i had rolled in tangled myself within your coast
and moved about like a purpose in your heart
and now the draw of the ocean owns us
the sea and all its mystery will take us now
we have nothing to say
love is that way

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
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#64 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/28

#64 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/28 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘A Field of Dreams’ taken in https://mapletonsorganic.ca/ fields…circa 2005.
Mapleton’s ice cream and yogurt is naturally heaven like. The boys were from the family run farm, young men now somewhere probably working for the dreams of the earth……https://www.facebook.com/mapletonsorganic/

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#63 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/27

#63 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/27 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Pow Wow Dancer….the season is here….I documented numerous events, some are for the public and some are traditional and hidden. Many today are competitive and some dancers go from one powwow to the next earning a living if they’re good and some are truly amazing dancing in the hot sun with a spirit inside emanating raw power and a soft touch to the earth.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#62 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/26

#62 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/26 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Horses on the Horizon……this is a technique of using a slow shutter speed and panning along with the movement of the object (car, people, horses) which blurs the background and if you’re lucky creates a great impressionistic image. This was probably about a second or two with a small aperture hole to adjust for the over amount of light. Sometimes you also need a neutral density filter to cut down on the light even more; a polarizing filter will work or in B/W a red filter works well. In the film days you could also lower the ASA of the film speed to make it less sensitive and therefore in need of more light for a correct exposure….TMI ‘too much information’, i suppose….circa 2000 or so

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#61 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/25

#61 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/25 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
If you know these folks from your weary travellin down highway #61, then you got a place to hang your hats for a few days or so, just a kilometre off Hwy #1. Vancouver Island just an hour north of glorious Victoria and an hour south from the turnoff to surfer shores Tofino is where we are. Watch out for the bears, especially cougars of all kinds. We’re just a few minutes away from so many fairylands. Friends and foe alike, don’t wait for heaven’s vacation, it may never come…..photo compliments by Doug Biggs whom is two hours north in Comox Valley Poet Laureate ‘s backyard vicinity.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
“Highway 61 Revisited” – bDylan

Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”
God say, “No.” Abe say, “What?”
God say, “You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’ you better run”
Well Abe says, “Where you want this killin’ done?”
God says. “Out on Highway 61”

Well Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose
Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes
He asked poor Howard where can I go
Howard said there’s only one place I know
Sam said tell me quick man I got to run
Ol’ Howard just pointed with his gun
And said that way down on Highway 61

Well Mack the finger said to Louie the King
I got forty red white and blue shoe strings
And a thousand telephones that don’t ring
Do you know where I can get rid of these things
And Louie the King said let me think for a minute son
And he said yes I think it can be easily done
Just take everything down to Highway 61

Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren’t right
My complexion she said is much too white
He said come here and step into the light he says hmmm you’re right
Let me tell second mother this has been done
But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 61

Now the rowin’ gambler he was very bored
He was tryin’ to create a next world war
He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor
He said I never engaged in this kind of thing before
But yes I think it can be very easily done
We’ll just put some bleachers out in the sun
And have it on Highway 61

#60 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/24

#60 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/24 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Vernon Harper and Willie Dunn talkin things over back in the late 80’s down on the pastures of Queens Park Toronto.
William “Willie” Dunn (August 14, 1941 – August 5, 2013)[1] was a Canadian singer-songwriter, film director and politician. Born in Montreal, he was of mixed Mi’kmaq and Scottish/Irish background. Dunn often highlighted aboriginal issues in his work.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#58 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/22

#58 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/22 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
A band with Bobby Becker on the left and Brad Murphy on the right and the two in the middle, i don’t know. I believe the band was called ‘Hot Off The Press’…i was proud of the lighting in this image…..circa mid 80’s maybe

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#56 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/20

#56 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/20 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Dan Smoke with ‘Eagle Feather Staff’. I believe this was taken at an EarthDay in London On. circa the late 80’s on B/W Infra red film. I remember Dan as a kind supporter of his people. We crossed paths frequently in those day.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#55 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/19

#55 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/19 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
“The Cube @ Astor Place” NYC just down the street in the East Village from where i lived with Bruce Gremo back in the 80’s. I have tons of images of NYC yet to be displayed on my website…..coming soon. I went to visit Roy Meyer when he lived on Queen St. Kitchener in 73 and he wasn’t in but his room mate Bruce Gremo was. We became friends instantly and have been close friends ever since. Bruce now lives in Beijing China teaching performing writing music of the highest quality. NYC gets in to your bones, no city like it. John Tank just lived down the street on 4th but only met up with him once while i lived there. He was there long before me and is still there on 4th blowing on his sax like very few, a gem in the world of jazz. When i was about ten or so i went to see a band at the Bridgeport Casino. My sister Trudy Schmidt husband Joe was the singer and leader of the country band. The sax player i heard was getting a world record for playing the instrument for 28 hours straight…..yup John Tank and who else but Bernie Carroll on drums at 13; ‘Franky and The Glow Tones’. Bernie and John have laughed over that a few times. John doesn’t remember any world record, but hey, i was ten, my brother in law probably bullshitted me for fun….NYC circa the 80’s and more to come.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#54 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/18

#54 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/18 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
If not today then tomorrow was the date my mother would celebrate her birthday. She has been gone awhile now and i miss the many times i would take her for drives out into the country. I would stop to take photos and she would just enjoy being out into the world and especially the calm country roads i would explore. We had many such moments in her later years after my step father had passed. Sierra has not been gone as long. I know now how my mother felt when she had lost two sons before herself. A sadness that never leaves, it simply becomes calm, melancholy, hidden from the world…….i have no illusions that she may be having a happy birthday today, but i can and may…..circa 92ish….. Eyes Had Spoke

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#49 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/13

#49 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/13 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Little Italy Toronto on College St. during some festival a few years ago. To get a simple shot as this is not as easy as it looks. Street photography is almost my favourite challenge, you watch, look for uniqueness, wait, act, fast. There are so many techniques i have learned over the years. Even with the advent of virtually everyone a potential image maker with their smart phones, it is still a challenge. It is often an unappreciated self fulfilling venture. Many considerations go thu your mind attempting to get a great shot. This is not a great shot but it is a good one, well exposed, good angle, just enough red from dress, earring, lips………..italian chicks little italy

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#46 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/10

#46 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/10 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Another selfie back in the day when you had to set the camera on a tri-pod, switch the timer to ‘on’ and then you had roughly 10 seconds to run into your preconceived image and act out the composition…….me, on the laneway to a farm house i lived in, west of Kitchener On….as often, the reality of how the picture was taken can destroy the beauty of the imagination…..but i like this shot, it has mystery to it, could be from the 16th century and up…..i suppose it was taken circa the late 80’s, 1980’s that is!

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#45 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/09

#45 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/09 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
It is amazing how plus 4 degree celsius dew water sits extremely energized on the tips of early morning grass defying gravity. This simple/complex understanding of water could change all of our energy and many of our social issues if only people really wanted to live. It appears that most of us simply want to believe in anything/something that gives comfort, security and happiness. Unfortunately reality demands other attributes. We carry on trusting people that have absolutely no clue or ulterior motives. Viktor Schauberger died a broken man, he also gave the world an understanding of a technology that would save us from our destruction of the earth. A micro percent of humanity has listened but very few have understood and the controlling resistance from the top has destroyed a few hundred years of advancement. Possibly we, along with many species are doomed, possibly not. ‘Implosion Biotechnology’, the natural life-giving-energy-creator of a water planet. Image created when waternature.org was formed – circa 15 years ago.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#44 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/08

#44 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/08 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Kim Remus on the trail of the red road up north of the 49th or on the plains of the midwest somewhere with red dust on her heals a hat full of vision a neckerchief to unfold words warm sparkling eyes and a whole host of miracles blossoming from the mystery….circa, well inta the past

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#43 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04

#43 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/07 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
In the streets of Mobile Alabama, with the Memphis blues again …circa late 80’s early 90’s

Now the bricks lay on Grand Street
Where the neon madmen climb
They all fall there so perfectly
It all seems so well timed
And here I sit so patiently
Waiting to find out what price
You have to pay to get out of
Going through all these things twice
Oh, Mama, is this really the end
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again
Bob Dylan (full lyrics)(https://www.azlyrics.com/…/stuckinsideofmobilewiththememphi…)

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#42 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/06

#42 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/06 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Alina Sarit Konwińska on the right, me on the left in a restaurant in a square downtown Lotz (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%81%C3%B3d%C5%BA). The polish damsel Pola Amber took the picture. One of the most memorable trips i encountered in this short and mysterious life. ‘For sureski’, one of the few words i knew….circa late 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#38 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/02

#38 Image-Content of the Day 2018/04/02 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I have spent so much of my time watching waters paint their version of reality. Most of my puddle series are non manipulated images exactly the way the naked eye sees. Everyone can use a passion in this life, especially when one has seen clear thru the illusion of the identity one has been conditioned with. It can leave one rather stranded in moments, without a path towards an afterlife heaven of sorts. It can force one to see the beauty that is always before us more often then most, perhaps. This shot was taken off the canal surrounding the old city of Chiang Mai in Thailand. Circa April 2017

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

 

#36 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/31

#36 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/31 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Charlotte Timmins & Susan Oxford …. I have no idea where this was taken but i do know that time was slower, with a more peaceful air and the world was not so serious and we shared many a wonderful moments together. Hi There, wherever you are….

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#35 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/30

#35 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/30 of-byhttp://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Looking up at Jesus on the Cross..His face is dark but his heart is bright……I photographed the rein-action of the crucifixion back in 76 in a little way-out-of-the-way town in Mexico. I was the only gringo on the scene. I photographed the full procession from Pontius Pilot’s condemnation to Calvary Hill where the two thief’s were already hanging….i later enhanced t

See More

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#34 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/29

#34 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/29 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The band Masquerade with Pat Furlong Bobby Becker Ted Zawadzki Trish Walker & John Bolten(http://sherwoodsystems.com/). The photo was taken at Eve Krynicki-Matzelle parents home, my old friends Les and Giddy Krynicki, many years ago…..circa 1974ish?

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#33 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/28

#33 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/28 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Last month Sasha and I were walking thru Stanley Park Vancouver City. Noticed a film being shot. Talked to a guy on the crew. He said it was a famous Chinese Series having a few episodes shot in Vancouver area. The couple was on a vacation within the script to Canada. I caught her looking at me through my camera lens, click…thanks……she is apparently very famous in China, tried to google her. I believe she is Sun Li (http://www.zoommovie.com/en-my/product-10560.html…)….i betcha someone knows for sure, maybe my good friend Yujing Cen knows?

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#32 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/27

#32 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/27 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Tim Leary (https://www.facebook.com/timfrancisleary/) & Ram Dass (https://www.facebook.com/babaramdass/)
I photographed these two legends of the world of psychedelics at a Hallucinogenic Drug Conference in San Francisco. There is a lot of information about them so if interested check the net. Both had a major influence on the last half of the 20th Century. Tim for ‘turn on tune in and drop out’ and Ram Dass (Richard Alpert) for the book ‘Be Here Now’ and a mindfulness movement…..there is so much more about these two splattered all over the web….it was interesting to see all these legends in one place. I had just returned from an exploration of mind, alone intimately with peyote, in a dessert of Northern Mexico, Wirikuta (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wirikuta), the sacred land of the Huichol (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huichol). I was in tune, very turned on, and was grateful of the synchronicity that transformed me to find my way and to drop in on this event……i traveled from Tuscon to San Francisco with my friends Leo and Raven in their Volks Van…..One of their stories of these times is told here….https://www.cannabisculture.com/content/1998/07/01/104…..circa 90ish….there is much more to this trip then can be explained here or anywhere!
PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#31 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/26

#31 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/26 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Buffalo were massacred, cultures were destroyed by ruthless remnants of cultures that were also once destroyed; assimilated. The pain continues, blame is thrown around like insult-weapons but no certainty soothes the wounded heart. Blood fighting blood, dreams and messages attacking the soul; one-people split and fighting for their lives. Answers rushing by stained grandfather rock resting in the streams. Water washing superstitious belief attempting to separate love. Thoughtless understanding of water, sacred water, the way of one-people.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM

#30 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/25

#30 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/25 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
i wandered into a school in cork ireland downtown somewhere and when i saw myself standing in a doorway with a friend i snapped back with my camera and caught a glimpse of my life decades ago like it was yesterday and suddenly reached back up ahead to the moment and said hey thanks for the photo and they joked with each other and flew back inta class left me to go on down the hall watching walls and doors escape from one another and what do i care i saw them there and me in them and life and memory and imagination keeps strolling down halls of life age and death no matter what you think what i think what anyone thinks and that’s a fact so push the door open wide cause here comes the past….circa 90’s

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#29 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/24

#29 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/24 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
What was once called an Asylum for the Insane; St Annes Asylum, Cork, Ireland……..A long story short… I was asked to smudge a section of the vacant women’s quarters. A super huge room with the remains of a hundred old metal beds or so stacked off to the side. There were eight or so private rooms the size of prison cells along one wall where horrendous things took place, i had heard. The energy was piercing of evil, sadness and abandonment. There was one section remaining with close to forty elderly men that a women nurse had taken it upon herself to see these individuals into their death. They had been terribly treated as was the practice behind us. She created areas with beach sand, lawn chairs and a relaxing safe atmosphere. She also developed an art room. One of the patients had a major art show in Dublin with portraits quite the opposite to Van Gogh whereas the portraits began expressionist-like and entered further into realism, but he was not present. This man in the photo was one of the patients. No one talked to me accept for the artist who told me his name but nothing more. For legal issues i was not allowed to take photo’s but hey, it was my life. They didn’t care and i believe they felt honoured. The lady nurse told me a few weeks later that the energy in the place had shifted enormously. I had heard that this huge old stone building was the longest building in all of Ireland. This link has aerial views….https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScqoGcKS2Fg…the man in the back danced across the room.

PATRICKWEY.ZENFOLIO.COM
Patrick Wey

#28 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/23

#28 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/23 of-by http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Guatemala City, down by the train lines where kids play. Their home, box cars deteriorating in the tracks. Happy, like kids are under most conditions; they get by until the years tear them apart into lives difficult. I remember well the feelings i felt for giving them attention they rarely received. One can only wonder about what will never be known of the whereabouts of this reality long gone. As most large cities of the day the train lines were close to the centre of the city which is where i’d hang out. By this time Doug had left and i was travelling alone in my huge 67 Pontiac Laurentian V6 filled with rugs, blankets, clothes, jewelry, etc. I was taking these back to Canada attempting to begin an importing business. Circa 1977

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Patrick Wey

#27 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/22

#27 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/22 of-by http:www.patrickwey.com
Patrick Wey sweeping James Hodgson off for the long and weary train ride thru life……Jim often stated, “when times get weird the weird get going” and together we often had to get going…. and so far, so good. Jim and I worked on numerous entrepreneurial projects that should have made us millions but life has its way to turn things weird. Weirdly enough, we met in Guatemala in 76 when i was on a road trip with Doug Biggs ….we managed to hang in there thru many a hard and shaky times. One of my life long closest friends….both of um!…weird guys…..weird and wow, two strange words with various meanings developed in the 60’s…..wow, weird eh!

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#26 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/21

#26 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/21 of-by http:www.patrickwey.com
This is one of my latest ‘puddle images’. A series of west coast tree and rock water-colour-paintings by Mother Gaia. These are completely non manipulated images. Anybody could see these if you walked around upside down or reversed images in your brain as i do constantly. This takes the pallet of documentary photography impressionism onto a new surface high. Please react before the sun goes down….

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#25 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/20

#25 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/20 of-by http:www.patrickwey.com
Rosetta and Alan Bruce Kirker. My relationship with Rosetta was beyond the physical plane. She came to me the day after my mothers funeral mysteriously and left a year later in the same manner. She was a true friend. There are stories too long for these pages. There are stories too sacred to tell. She was a trickster much like Al Kirker…….circa 1995

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Patrick Wey

#24 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/19

#24 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/19 of-by http:www.patrickwey.com
After a Vernon Harper burn-with-vern sweat in Warkworth Prison. Vern conducted sweats at a few of the Ontario prisons for the Native Brotherhood and Sisterhood. This was a hot day and a hot sweat i recall. I accompanied Vern as his assistant for many….Here they brought out laundry containers filled with water for a relax-moment after…..

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#22 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/17

#22 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/17 of-by Patrick Wey

This image is overlooking the first site where St Patrick established christianity in Ireland. The celtic with their druids also gave up their earth based spirituality for the roman’s christian beliefs……. somewhat later this also took place here in the america’s, from the tip of the south to the ends of the north. Everywhere on this planet the likes of St Patrick has spread like butter over bread, gold flake over sculptures…..happy st paddy’s day……….i was named after an irish gentlemen whose fiancée was the nurse whom brought me into this world of wars…patrick thomas…he died in a war. I conducted a sweat lodge in Ireland for a year where many celtic supporters came to pray…..in heart we are all one people, but how few attempt the long and dangerous journey to the heart….

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Patrick Wey

#20 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/15

#20 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/15 of-by http://www.patrickwey.com/
This image was taken at Vernon Harper‘s sweat lodge by Quelph Ont. circa 1990’s. The original is a B/W negative printed on archival paper and hand painted with coloured dyes similar to what was used before colour photography existed as far back as the late 1800’s. I was a regular at the lodge at that time and was authorized to document Vern and his life. The original Urban Elder Multi-image presentation was showcased on CBC’s Sunday Arts and Entertainment in the 1990’s …https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRMcW3w1htE Vern embracing the cool air by the doorway.

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Patrick Wey

#19 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/14

#19 Image-Content of the Day 2018/03/14  of-by patrickwey
Original image taken in the downtown of Chicago. The image is superimposed onto a gelatin slide that i made back in the late 60’s early 70’s. I made hundreds of these with coloured dyes and gelatin, oils, acid, anything i could find to add texture and colour to clear acetate. This finished image was printed onto plexiglass about 26 by 40 inches. This image now hangs on a wall at Martina Mysicka‘s home. She bought it just before we moved out west two years ago……

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Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #18 2018/03/13

Image-Content of the Day #18 2018/03/13
This fellow doesn’t look all that happy sitting in his cage. Our culture encages many species including our own. A look, as if to say, “i don’t feel well in this world, can you help”? or put more simply, “wtf”……circa 90’s Toronto Zoo

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Miscellany | DSC_0100.tif
Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #17 2018/03/12

Image-Content of the Day #17 2018/03/12
Travelling alone thru Texas i came across some oil riggers. Walked up, “howdy, just wanderin and wonderin what you’re up ta, thought i’d take a few pictures, hope ya don’t mind”….”no not at all just tryin to get some oil outa this rig here”…..Some times what you leave out of an image forces one to fill in the hole…..Circa late 80’s

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Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #16 2018/03/11

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #16 2018/03/11
I enjoy street photography immensely. It takes talent and often a lot of nerve. Occasionally someone converses with me as i keep photographing knowing the moment is of all importance. This young beautiful women was walking in the downtown of Mobile Alabama. I often just wander around letting images present themselves to my camera. It is in the moment of natural expression that i attempt to capture something special. I travelled through the south alone a number of times in my life. Alone is the best as a photographer; you must have the option to dance freely with the territory of uncertainty. This is where you find the gems.

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Patrick Wey

love is what is

love is what is
what is is love
no matter what you’re thinking of
in the trees, in the bees and in the seas
beyond thought is love
that is what everything is of

it is about time

to all the friends i have forgotten about
all the moments dead and gone
the roads the paths and trails behind
to all the feelings embedded in the mind
to the multi-coloured man
lying in the silent sand
to the dreams and schemes
to the truth
that is as certain as it seems
to all life and all history
to all the gods and demons and devises
to everything that ever was or ever could be
to what is, to what isn’t
to you and me, to the one, to the many
to the lies, the ties, the cries and the alibis
to night and day
to everything that cannot say
to water and fire, earth and sky
to the moment where we lay
within this broken bay
everything has it’s say
along the way

jesus is an alibi for a mind in fear
budda won’t save you either
and mahamad is just another dream
to unite the troubled masses
there is no one going to save you but your self
there is no medicine man from any ancient tribe
that can force you to see what is
there is no path to truth
it is all up to you
there is no method, no doctrine
that is not entrapped in it’s own map
walled from the light
procedured to its doom

so what does one do
with no one left to enlighten you
no system pure enough
no scripture bright enough
no leader strong enough
where does one go for the truth

truth is in no word, no ritual, no belief
one can not find truth
truth is hidden from all seekers
beauty has no name
only the silent mind is pure
eliminate all whom attempt to own you
man, belief, the weight of the known
walk in silence open to your step
it is not of you, it is of love, of beauty, of truth
no word owns god the process the way
the absolute is beyond the mind man has created
eliminate the conditioning of the mind
this endless process of envy
break the pattern from one belief to another
there is no pure ideal
walk in freedom, let thought fall into its rightful place
a tool never perfect, always adjusting it’s abstract form, limited
it can never know the truth
no word can set you free
the truth is absolute, beyond
it sits still in the silent mind
it is a constant movement of beauty, love
it is of an alert mind, attentive to all
thought may come and it may go
but it has no real control
pure attention is the beauty of god
the way, the process of our universe
start here where you are, not where you are not
what are you, what do you see
investigate your mind with clarity
see only what is and watch it in silence
free yourself from yourself
you are not what you believe
see for yourself
you are much more
no one owns you
not even yourself
break the shackles of the past
see no future
for now

Image-Content of the Day #15 2018/03/10

Image-Content of the Day #15 2018/03/10
Rubin Hurricane Carter (https://www.facebook.com/Rubin-Hurricane-Carter-115095468…/…) & Vernon Harper(https://www.facebook.com/vernon.harper.980) – (Vern Hurricane Harper)….A long and intricate story that brought these two Hurricanes together, not to be told here. Rubin Hurricane Carter’s partial story is told in the movie starring Denzel Washington https://www.facebook.com/TheHurricaneMovie/https://www.facebook.com/Denzel-Hayes-Washington-436470666…/
Bob Dylan The song ‘The Hurricane’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JG2-Z_QMO0….this song shone light onto Rubin’s situation and helped in his release from 19 years in prison for a crime he didn’t do.
I got to know Rubin before the infamous movie and his second coming fame. We were walking together one day and i was explaining some mentally emotional trip i was finding very difficult to understand and surpass when he put his arm around me and said, “have faith brother” with a voice and spirit that pierced straight to the centre of my heart; coming from a man who knew ‘faith’ well. Often that energy revisits me in tough times. I shared time in sweat lodge ceremonies with Rubin and Vern and photographed Rubin with his horses in King City where he was living soon after he was found not guilty and released from prison….Rubin died at 76 in April 2014……..he lives on in many a heart.

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Image-Content of the Day #14 2018/03/09

Image-Content of the Day #14 2018/03/09
Wroclaw Poland https://www.facebook.com/wroclaw.wroclove/ circa very late 1900’s……….I went there in the flash of a heart felt moment to visit a damsel whom i met a few years back in a most magical way in England, Trafalgar Square. Wroclaw, with all its charm, became a favourite city of mine, forever.

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Image-Content of the Day #10 2018/03/05

Image-Content of the Day #10 2018/03/05 of-by http://www.patrickwey.com/
Circa 1996 Cork Ireland…I was accustomed to carrying my camera everywhere i went. This Roma Gypsy woman i often talked to as she tried to make a few dollars from the streets selling trinkets. She never would allow me to photograph her so i didn’t. Nearing my exit from Ireland one day talking to her i told her i was heading back to Canada. We talked with broken english. I again asked her if i may take her picture and this time she said ok. I did not hesitate, This is it.
The Roma Gypsies have spread across Europe and the world. They are mostly persecuted everywhere they go. Their story is not very well told or understood. This book ‘Bury Me Standing’ by Isabel Fonseca explains well their plight in life (https://www.kirkusreviews.com/…/isabel-fo…/bury-me-standing/). Vernon Harper‘s wife Geralyn turned me on to this book just before i left for Ireland for a year. The Native American Indian have a lot in common with the Gypsies. This is one of the best books i have read……..Vern’s father was half Irish Gypsy and half Cree i was told.

Patrick Wey
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