232 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/13

232 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/13 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
‘And but for the sky there are no fences facin’ Mr Tamborine Man by Bob Dylan
If John Lennons ‘Imagine’ is the Natural Anthem then surely ‘Mr Tamborine Man’ is the Psychedelic Anthem.
We traveled from one town to the next, there was nothing to stop us, we had love on our side, ‘And the ancient empty street’s too dead for dreaming’.
With our freedom set into the night we traveled into the dark with the unknown as our strength and the roadless way as our guide.

‘And if you hear vague traces of skippin’ reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time
It’s just a ragged clown behind
I wouldn’t pay it any mind
It’s just a shadow you’re seein’ that he’s chasing’

With our boot heals hittin the desert dust and our eyes wide across the city tar we went where no man had, into the fury of change, the very core of our brains straight thru the tunnel beyond reason, beyond thought into the mystery of mystery itself. Lsd, weed, tools to excavate the mind, the depth of sin eliminated the gates of heaven revealed.

‘And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time
Far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees
Out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach
Of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea
Circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate
Driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today
Until tomorrow’

I grabbed my thumb from my pocket and headed out into the road. I hitched up and down the coast across desert sands and felt that place inside that soft easy space where nothing matters much, truth riding in the wind.
In the mid sixties you could stumble across a laid away town in the middle of the west with a few long hairs hanging around some street corner and you could sense immediately if the vibe was cool and if their home was your home. There was a code, free for no reason, bound to end.
Fences had come down, walls disintegrated, eyes like a morning flower opened to the sunlit truth but there was a harsh wind awaiting and about to blow hard across the nation.
I remember those days when the division was simple, long hair / short, straight / cool, drop out or established fool. The world was falling all around, dreams circling the circus sands and we wanted off, wanted out, wanted more.
‘Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you’
The way turned bent whirled curved but a few remember, a few still sit alone in the cafes of heaven, ponder back over the terrains that never die.
Fences fading drifting into eternity
love named burning into flaming skies.
Image coloured-jel created in the late 60’s sandwiched to a fence image of the 90’s, writing oct. 2018 along with Dylans Mr. Tamborine Man 1964https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeP4FFr88SQ

Patrick Wey

230 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/11

230 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/11 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Patrick Wey is a famous hockey player whom retired because of head injuries.
Patrick Wey is an infamous photographer/writer whom would love to retire with the hockey players money.
They compete with each other on the front pages of google images. Of course the hockey player is winning but gradually his hockey will disappear and art once again will score the winning goal.
Image of patrick wey stolen from the internet and manipulated by patrickwey the artist….just for fun.


229 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/10

229 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/10 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The shimmering factories are fading, mothers and fathers dead or dying, cancers injected into their skin into their bones into their brains. The years of building trinkets and guns the days of sweat and fun, those days are goin and done. The ghost of mechanics still rings in the suburbs of industrial dust with digitized robots of heartless endeavours for post modern toys of comfort and joy. The world is changing, the new breath of dream of america is here and the dying of tradition is rusting away in the alleyways. We are moving on so it seems tho we act like we’re still catching our breath at the edge of the cave. The new interconnected silicon and cell will fulfil the ideals of the few and the new wars to survive are already being fought close by if you open up your eyes far enough from the dope of entertainment and nourishment of unnaturally created compounds to soothe our plastic souls. The days ahead are bleak for many, the work is never done, jesus with the good guys on one side and the devil from the dark on the other. Call it what you will; they say, ‘confusion is the best division’, but down here everything is silent and smooth and there ain’t nothing to fear cept your imagination running………..
image circa 80’s writing oct 2018


228 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/09

228 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/09 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
we walked thru city streets down, together, past melting buildings and sleet across our face but we never stopped, always kept one foot in front of the other. we dreamt this, we kept our promise, we held on, we loved, we slept in soft surreal beds, crept along thru neon clubs and scenes dim and rough. we managed to make it thru to the other side with few scars and we left the dreams calm and lost them along the ditch for others. i remember the new york city streets and the flavour of the cold. i left the night along the canal like anyone else weary of the damp illusion of views that are impossible to make exist, had to be destroyed, set aside. she said, “wish we could stay here forever” and i wanted it too, but things change and there ain’t nothin one can do. the many years have passed, slid across my brain but still the memory lights up my heart when i fall back there.
image circa 80’s writing oct 2018


227 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/08

227 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/08 of-by patrick weyhttp://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day

….a ruffled-up-crow dreams out a prayer for our thanksgiving….

Thanks for the food and the door way to the other side
thanks for the rock and roll and the cafes and social media
thanks for the summer evenings and the crucifictions
thanks for spelling errors and correction apps and toilet paper
thanks for the troubled minds and the addicted
thanks for my freedom to say what i want
for the turkeys real and symbolic and the privileged airplane rides
thanks for the love hidden and over done
thanks for your sweet thoughts right in the nitch of time
and for all the tattoos and sacred symbols
thanks for all the people that try so hard
and the flowers in bloom and the animals
Thanks for everything for this moment for this high
thanks for you, them and the earth and sky
thanks for the time wasted on facebook
and friends that have reappeared and disappeared
thanks for thanks and life and death
and thanks for everything i regret
for all the things i’ve missed for all the things i’ve had
thanks again and again for this day this night
for everything wrong and everything right
for all the smiles and all the tears
for the bravery and all the fears
thanks for today and tomorrow and our concept of time
thanks thanks thanks and thanks over and over again thanks

thanks for second thoughts and peculiar conclusions
thanks for trumped-up-like people, the jesus saved ones and the entertainment
for those whom see what’s right and for those lost in a dream
for the future for the critics for the politicians and the saints
thanks for this life, this time to be, this circus and christmas celebrations
thanks for all the holidays and the hard days at work
for the children the women the men the beliefs and illusions
thanks for the brave the stupid and the discreet
for karma the mystery the universe the unknown
thanks for the chance to feel at a glance
the real the unreal the surreal and beyond
and thanks for thanksgiving happy or not, and to be thankful
for our consciousness and for all we’ve got……..
and oh yea, thank god for crows
image circa late 70’s writing oct 2018


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

226 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/07 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Here i stand lookin straight out at the world, my bag, my journal, a camera or two. Time had twisted down a few roads since this shot slid into view. One could be what ever one wanted to be, looking back. Outside a southwest mansion with adventures weary-dust upon my face i rambled around there for awhile. There were good times bad times but mostly times with a sense of freedom tangled up in the wind. I miss those days when life was just what it was, a purpose driven by the walk, the way one would roll a cigarette and puff a little tobacco, the way you could go that way or this way, didn’t matter all that much as long as freedoms illusion wrapped its arms loose around your coat…..yesterday, all my
photo circa 90’s writing oct 2018


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

225 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/06 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
A pretty face on a porcelain brain, autumn rain slippin down the street, the whole race on the track of city air surrounding. He walked by never noticed a thing, she looked down. The world was rough, damp, cold and the mood was swinging low. The city takes you places you knew you’d never go but there you were right in the midst of it. The turbulence was everywhere the purpose was lost, meaning fell like a tomb. I walked into the scene, fell in love, then left for the coast.
photo circa 80’s writing oct. 2018

Irena Berlinska in the background i noticed….



224 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/05

224 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/05 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
There is no beauty like beauty. Water painting its way down stream. The heavens falling all around. A man in his old armour rushing about and a woman with a butterfly net walks by. A heavenly drizzle slants itself across the view and sun shimmers thru each and every drop in its wake. Water is everywhere, it’s in your brain, it’s in the rain, it’s in the dreams that flow down your drain. Beauty is in everything – if it’s in your eye, it’s reflected from trees across the streams, it’s the web of love and consciousness it seems.
photo circa 2018 writing October 2018

Patrick Wey

222 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/03

222 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/03 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
i don’t wanna beg, i did’t plan it this way, i don’t like being here any more than you would. i see your fancy stuff hangin off your back, your future rapped up in a velvet cloth, your whole universe summed up and placed rather straight on down the line. i’m no idiot, just a chick with some hard turns, a woman in this world displayed like an antique in a second hand store. the day passes slow here, some days are real tough, some days fall off the edge, some are full of pity and sadness. i didn’t plan it this way but i’m caught, no way to get out of this mess. I’ve got kids dead half dead and some never lived at all. It’s not easy watchin you with your things. It’s not right, you know it and i know it. i got no dreams left, nothin left here but death watchin. this has not been a good day and i can’t find it in my heart to apologize, leave what you will, look the other way.
photo circa 70’s writing yesterday

Patrick Wey

221 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/02

221 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/02 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
walking around town with my head in the clouds, lookin to see what i can see, lookin to be what ever i be. no worries, in a dream, livin free. i got no place to go, nobody to be, i got nothin but my feelin free…..this is the way i remember some of my youth but sometimes things change and sharp realities slide in. you can see them if you look quick to the left, catch a glimpse as they float by but if you’re really swift and in tune to the day you can brush it all aside and get right back to that good old young to be, forever free……..it’s a dream, lasts awhile then fades then reappears then again….
image circa 80’s, writing yesterday


220 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/01

220 Image-Content of the Day 2018/10/01 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
Looking out this window here in BC across a valley to a mist hidden mountain of beauty and pondering over times in Mexico 40 years ago. I remember taking this photo in some city along the way, Oxoaco in the south, i believe. I was fascinated with poverty and the poor so obvious and many, unhidden from view, in contrast to in the prosperous streets of the north.
Farmers and peasants forced into cities for a better life that became impossible to find for most. Many ended up in the streets begging for an existence difficult and absurd. There was little choice for most but to keep walking. They were once young with dreams that slowly eroded into a ditch of hard times. They remain; more and more generations have worn out shoes stumbling along these same streets. All across the globe poor souls exist in conditions most people refuse to see. A billion excuses come to mind to alleviate any quilt that may arise. We have more than enough pretty pictures to cover our walls and conclusions and veils to keep us safe, secure and motivated to enlighten our surroundings with a sprinkle of love straight from our wounded hearts.
What is one to do? So much wealth in the hands of a few and so much struggle for the many and a complete hell for far far too many….this is our world of incredible beauty, difficult decisions, denial, false assumptions, insanity, deep sadness, wonder, laughter and what we call love.
A great man once said (Wes Jackson), “if you can’t find any humour in all this you are just not taking it serious enough”.
circa 70’s image, writing yesterday….

Patrick Wey

219 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/30

219 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/30 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The walls we left behind, the barren scape of time
the roads the home the very scope of love, once mine….

into the sky, way down me head swaying like a willow across fields of memory and straight into a long and narrow day. i love it the way she tells me things that only she can tell, the way she sees into things like they were alive and well. This cloudy stream of sky sun-lit and soft held us for awhile, a long dear while. We were in love like beauty is when two is one. The scene was set the noon came in soft and our time melted around the gentle air like a warm sweater like lips across her cheek.
We walked on for years, time held us like luck does before a change that breaks things apart. And just like an old man i can remember things that never were, things that really never moved so smooth, days of love like rain of light drizzling soft upon our hearts. Time, it has its way of twisting in and out of life…..like love does.

….So sail on thru the storm
Let time see of itself
Be the heart that beats true
Hold nothing old
into the new…..

circa – Image created 90’s, writing yesterday/today

Patrick Wey

218 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/29

218 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/29 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
i swore there was some way out of here. i could see you desperately hanging on. the world had you. you crawled along the floor like a magnet. your friends sneered. your time was lame but yet you managed to survive, to etch your life line upon the earth. no one said a word as they looked the other way. the bells were ringing. aliens took over the town hall. the seas were wild, the sky in turmoil and only a few could see. i held you there in my arms like i did and you smiled for just awhile before they came and dragged you down. the end came fast then slow in the end. i justabout reached there to catch a glimpse, just before love arose from the insides and destroyed this dream.
the making of an image of the end from a mixture of minds sent on a mission with meaning that meant nothing as everything does when things come down to it. disheartening to find out you’re alone just when you think someone really found you. but there is nothing to fear, there is always something to see something to be somewhere to go. i know there is nothing to say and i say it just like that.
….mental illness is on the top of the world, this is a mixture from the inside out, thoughts from the streets, loved ones, family and friends and others……who would have known that the mis-understanding of ‘water’ is at the core of all of this, the life blood of a living earth has been crippled and all life forms that depend on it, are it, are affected by it’s dying. no matter how complex man becomes with its nature its science its ways it can not live without water and dying water gives dying breath and decaying minds.
image circa 90’s creation from ‘Crow Space’ a multi-image show of the life and times of a Crow in the ends of time as we knew it….writing from yesterday today
Living Water……..http://waternature.org/

Patrick Wey

217 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/28

217 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/28 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
She said she didn’t want me anymore, walked away, headed for the deck, threw specs of bread into the air. Seagulls surrounded her, swept their wings so close she dreamed
of flying.
The sun set, the day gave up shuffled about the deck, squandered a few memories begging for one more sweet caress against the world; her love with warm hands in hand, just awhile longer, just one more moment, sea breeze swimming around our minds but then, wind came swift shifted things.
We met against the dark side, held on for life, gave our hearts complete….times moved about and clouded the sun for days, landing us in a drought of our souls. The desert landscape couldn’t have been more beautiful but the deep thirst killed us.
Time blew in again and forgiveness settled in our breath. Love, no more than a word, scrambled about looking for something to hang onto and that was the day with bread crumbs, she left for good.
Here lies the remains of the memory of our love and like a worn out painting this photograph holds the key to my heart, the sea, the wind.
image circa 25 years ago or so, writing yesterday

No automatic alt text available.

216 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/27

216 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/27 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
There’s probably a story or two hidden in the backyards of a few minds from the night light hit the negatives of my nikon way back when, but not from me. I don’t recall who she is or where i was. There’s a good chance it’s toronto and a semi famous band and that Coral Andrews would know. At any rate, she’s pretty and she plays base and i was there and i wish i was again.
Why do i do this, what’s the point, makes me question my sanity….old photographs lost in the archives of a one-time photographer with some strange commitment to a few more posts or so. The time is coming to an end, i feel it in my blood, i’m gettin to the ledge, the end of the line, an era dead. These photos will find there way here and there i suppose but for someone who cares little about the past they mean less and less. The age of image gluttony, sound bit specs in every dash of wind is here while the past is drowning in a future dangerously uncertain.
My thoughts move about the page for nothing better to do. I sit in a small cafe in a small town with small dreams waiting for the winds to shift.


211 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/22

211 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/22 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
The old ones have turned gray. I want to be able to say what i can’t comprehend, so what is there left but determinism, the endeavour to create. What else is there when there is no room left on the walls, images competing for space. No room for a future, the past has cluttered the hallways with debris, rubbish demanding attention endlessly, noice with silence on death row. What kind of a life has developed here, where has the love gone, what dreams are smothering the road? I want you because of habit, circumstance, security; out of the frame and into the blue.
Image created 2016, content today and yesterday…


210 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/21

210 Image-Content of the Day 2018/09/21 of-by patrick wey http://patrickwey.com/blog/category/image-content-of-the-day
I see you walk down your city streets glance out across the plains dream of things into form for nothing better to do. You cage us up like we’re your little toys, things to amuse you with. We watch you drink from streams and eat from the earth and force us to act out our nature confined. I love it the way you squeeze our brains into the likeness of your worlds of religious domination beliefs and others. We get on the best we can living our nature unnaturally. We don’t have the hells you’ve created the karma you’ve devised or the walls your thoughts praise. We live by the second free no matter what you think. I suppose if we thought about it we’d feel immense pity for you but we don’t. We have a different sort of love, a love that kills and lives and dies free within a code of mystery. I speak for all but you. I am a crow, my big brother the raven is the being whom brought light into this world. That’s what we know, believe it or not it means nothing to us, our mission is unknown to us, that’s the way it outa be, that’s the way it is.
image circa 90’s content yesterday


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


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


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
circa dundas st. toronto, china town 80’s


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


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


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


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.

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
for evermore

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.


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


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.


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

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


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


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


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


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)


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.


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


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’
Circa 2001 aSpaceO


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


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.


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.


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

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


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


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.


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.


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


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

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
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.
Photo Circa early 90’s


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.


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.
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

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.


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

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.


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


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.

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.


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.

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.


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 )

Vern Harper and Statue

Image and Writing by patrick wey

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.


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


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


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.


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


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.

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

Patrick Wey