#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?


#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?


#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!

#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.


#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

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.

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

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!


#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….


#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

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…..


#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….

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.

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……

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

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

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.

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.


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.


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

Image-Content of the Day #9 2018/03/04

Image-Content of the Day #9 2018/03/04 of-by http://www.patrickwey.com/
This may not be a great photograph, but these are great men…….Sirvando(Apache), Thomas(Hopi), & Vernon Harper(Cree) These men have huge stories. Each one has tales to hold one captive days upon days. I heard their words when i needed words to hit my soul. Each one of them became like an older brother to me. They all had the humble attribute of listening with their heart, truly a very rare attribute. It is as if they would patiently wait for an empty vessel to fill with meaning compassion love then gently pour it over your wounds, your scars and sometimes kick your ass back out there in the world for more….circa 1991..Photo taken on the Second Mesa Arizona in Thomas’s home. No one was allowed cameras in the village but Thomas allowed me to photograph in his adobe home the four times i visited in the next few years. There is so much more about these visits embedded in my heart. Almost unbelievable events. Sirvando lived in New Mexico and is now on the other side. Their presence often fills me with easy breath.

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #8 2018/03/03

Image-Content of the Day #8 2018/03/03 of-by http://www.patrickwey.com/
Todays image chosen by Alexandra Zaichanka. Circa 1975 taken in Mexico somewhere on my way back from Guatemala; traveling alone in my 1967 Pontiac Laurentian, which had broken its frame once in California with Doug Biggs at Mike Klein‘s surroundings, was welded, repaired and made it to Guatemala which is where i met James Hodgsonfor the first time. A close friend for all these years. Doug flew back to be with his girlfriend whom was travelling in Europe at the time, Caroline Diebolt, (yes my old girlfriend)…… i continued on home alone thru Mexico. I met Jacqueline, now married to my close friend Joe Hiller after introducing them the following year when we traveled back to Tuxpan Mexico on the Gulf of Mexico side…..My Pontiac died in Galveston Texas from a broken heart. I stayed with John Veltri a Jesuit Priest, a life time close friend of mine, now deceased. I hung out for a few days there then flew back to Canada and ended up terribly sick. Annie Toman took care of me before i ended up in isolation for ten days with hepatitis and yellow jaundice…..i survived, wow, what a trip and long winds.

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #7 2018/03/02

Image-Content of the Day #7 2018/03/02 of-by http://www.patrickwey.com/
These lovely women are most of my favourite sisters and you can tell we’re family by their noses: It’s a Wey’s nose….. Barbara, Rose HannaTrudy Schmidt and Carolyn Roche……They all have been fantastic sisters and introduced many children into this complex world; they in turn brought more, and then more and more and more…so many i have lost count…..and i am their favourite youngest brother, that’s the word in the back yard…..187 Edward St ..Sherwood 58 661 Little Berlin…..I remember snapping this picture knowing that it may be the last opportunity of catching them all together with my traditional documentary style…..being the age difference they were all like mothers to me…… they did do a good job?…i’s think!

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #5 2018/02/28

Image-Content of the Day #5 2018/02/28 of-by http://www.patrickwey.com/Lindsay Stewart, Ron Roy, Tom Greer, Patrick Wey …. could be Rons stag, but where i don’t know…..circa late 80’s….the days just before the red road came to claim me, it’s all good………..shot with my 35mm Minox i believe, either on a timer or someone thought i should get into a shot for a change, maybe Danny Michel……looks like we were drinking beer and goofin around..

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #3 2018/02/26

Image-Content of the Day #3 2018/02/26 of-by http://patrickwey.zenfolio.com/ This is one of my very first Puddle Images taken around 1976. I searched for puddles everywhere, hanging around after rains, spring time flooding, anywhere there was water i’d find my eyes glancing into the murky substance searching for an image. Mental acrobatics became second nature. Each reflection is unique and involves different techniques. I mostly used 35mm colour slide Kodachrome 25 or 64 asa for maximum definition and colour.
This shot is of a mennonite, his horse and buggy in their terrain north of Waterloo On. I became fascinated with the Impressionist feel of how water painted reality as an absolute pure artist. I was hooked, the reflections of water became a mission. Water became my teacher. Water washes waves of the past anew. This shot was titled Mystic Mennonite.

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #2 2018/02/25

Image-Content of the Day #2 2018/02/25 of-by http://patrickwey.zenfolio.com/ This image was taken in the Langdon Hall Mansion just between Blair and Galt (Cambridge) Ont. The model Is Rebecca (?), Her parents were the caretakers at the time and lived on the premises. We had the run of the place so i did a few shoots there. I attempted to create images at the level of Vogue or other magazines of the day. I am sure Rebecca would love a few of these images now. She must be as wrinkled as i am. Where is she? The place was lovely and is now an upscale restaurant. (https://www.facebook.com/LangdonHallHotel/)
This was tri-x b/w film normally 400 asa but i always shot at 200asa, an extra stop overexposed and one stop underdeveloped. It gave me more contrast and yet kept detail in the shadows. Circa around 1980. I developed my own film but often Ron Hewson did contacts but i did most of my own printing. Rebecca was a natural and we worked well together. Shooting people and models takes a special gift to get it right. Sometimes i got it right. A little direction and let the model take it from there. I worked hard to get the lighting right. That was always a big challenge and the equipment i had in those days was extremely limited but somehow i putted it off occasionally. This image worked for me.

Patrick Wey

Image-Content of the Day #1 2018/02/24

Image-Content of the Day #1 of-by http://patrickwey.zenfolio.com/ This is the first of my new daily ‘image-content of the day’ series….this image was created for a multi-image show i once created called CROW SPACE. This is the url to the Youtube of it and also the lyrics to a poem contained within……https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g088qlHn1-g
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.

Patrick Wey

‘guns and violence’


It’s a KIDS World…..made by KIdMEN

was not my intention to make light of this serious problem within our society……’guns and violence’……especially with what has happened in Florida today….so many tragedies in this world and so many with useless answers to the problems……it’s a mess and if i had to suggest an underlying problem it would be what i have been stating for years…..’our believing in the illusion of belief itself’, one is set against another. I don’t believe we have to believe in anything to know within our hearts that it is all truly a mystery. No one has the answer, no one god or the lack of one is better than any other, all science and intellect are on trial always. The main teaching everywhere should be on ‘the validity of thought’ itself. Possibly than humanity would discover we are all investigating endlessly. That there are no absolutes that can be verified with thought and we are all the same in one aspect, ‘we know nothing for certain’………….it is all so hard to understand that we ‘can not’ know anything for certain; it is all so scary for the idealists.
This will probably never end. It appears most humans are violent believers, psychologically, physically, secretly and openly. We are in denial believing in what we want to believe in, that which makes us safe and comfortable and that ultimately is what leads to differences that can and does turn violent. 

One can not but feel for the ones that lost loved ones over what appears to be a disconnected issue within humanity. This has been going on since man began. I see no ultimate answer fit. I just walk on as simple as i am able.

i’d love to see you again innocent

i’m tired of the fight

and all the advice

for likes and sympathy

for unification

and desperate community

from all the desperate souls

i am sick of love

that conditions me

to share this or share that

i have had it with social truth

thrown around in a happy face

i’d love to see you naked

under a microscope

with all your thoughts spread out like plasma

your beliefs forcing cells to crack

into tumours exposed like hypocrites

and love twisted around sick blood


i’d love to see you again innocent

healed and worthy and beneficial

like when we met before time

took us down

to the rooms of segregation

into the cathedrals of arrogance

past the trees and simple things

i wish i could take you back

you and all those forward looking friends

back then

when the future was friendly

Alien Identity-Replication Theft-Ring Discovered

WhistleBlown – Alien Identity-Replication Theft-Ring Discovered


Patrick What and Alexandra Zaichenko awoke one autumn morning of 2023  to a call from an unnamed secret government agency employee. They were informed that their identity had been stolen but not in the usual manner. Their DNA had been cloned into replicas of themselves and sold amidst the darknet  and was discovered by accident through one of our Secret Space Program Employee’s.

It appears this couple here in the photograph was a replica clone and had tried to pass thru customs in Miami Florida unaware of their obvious differences to other humans around them. They were being watched because of their unusual use of Patrick’s and Alexandra’s crypto currencies thru out a Virtual Reality Online Gaming System. They are being held for further tests on replication procedures by ANIS Alternative Nations Intel Services, a newly formed organization because of the unusually high traffic of Alien movement in and around planet-earth of recent.

This could create unheard of disasters for mankind says whistle blower Conway MacFakery of the ANIS group. We are attempting to uncover classified documents from major players in the World Order but times look grim for a true reality amidst the new world of fake news, fake humans, fake leaders, and fake virtual realities.



Patrick and Alexandra expect to be reimbursed for their Cryptocurrency losses but were disappointed of no mention of reimbursements for emotional damages. They do expect more replicas will be found and possibly with a more accurate rendition. Patrick was quoted in response to this mess, ‘”we were just beginning to find ourselves when we got stolen, wow, what a peculiar universe”.


In Mexico Gathering Excerpts Gone-by Along-side New Ones


A long ‘off the cuff’ writing of a little of why patrickwey is what he is and isn’t….images and text by patrick wey

As some of you know i have been living out west with Sasha for the last year.

I write often but rarely expose it to the world. Some day possibly some of what i write will find its way to the pages of a screen. Think i’ll mend a few of these excerpts of the last few weeks together for those that might be interested and to gather my thoughts along the way.

 I have been writing all my life in one way or another mostly to make some sort of sense to the thoughts i have about this world.

I know i am not conventional and my writing has gone thru numerous stages and styles, some good some not so good and a few possibly great. I suppose i developed some form of style but i have not had any real direction ever, other then listening to loads of Dylan, reading literature of all kinds but mostly struggling through my own words as they crawl along the page.

Many times i feel like i have written about this or that before and it bores me but to my amazement once i set to slipping words in a row some sort of magic often appears and i keep writing and occasionally some real intricate depth surfaces before my eyes. It is all so subjective writing about ones life.

i am sitting in an outside cafe in Puerto Vallarta and have been here for a few weeks. I have recalled the many times i had travelled thru mexico in the past and the time i lived in Mexico City teaching english and wandering the streets with all my cameras and lenses and a tripod. That was a time when one had to really consider, if to or not to, click the shutter. Film and development was expensive and the procedures for a well exposed image was much more complicated then it is today.

There was also very little communication with friends and family back home. I was alone but far from lonely most of the time. I was within an adventure. I could have been beat up murdered with many of the places i would wander into always wanting to steal another great shot. It is so much easier today but somehow you can also feel it in the images, they are often weak of heart.

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.

The streets are hot and sweaty. I am in Old town. I often travel between the non tourist and semi touristic areas.

I am not fond of most tourists, never was i suppose, but i am not fond of most people either, generally speaking, but i do care about them.


shorts of tourists

lost in their novels living their dreams in hidden creation of nitemares for the unseen

world travellers that haven’t been anywhere with a million images to prove it

their collection of sunsets and manufactured smiles

spread out across the globe for nothing more

than a composition of their refurbished reasons for their existence

frozen smiles on tethered souls

painted faces resembling modern art

dreams walking running in search of themselves

buildings erupting through the avenues

tattoos piercings trends aspiring to be

people imitating people adrift in a dream

this is the way of the world it seems

From Back in BC a month or so ago….

its been a year in the west and things were tough at times and things were beautiful and often cold and damp, life in a new land has its differences bundled up in occasional shocking waves piercing damp-cold knifing to your bones; incredible beauty emerges on the sides of hills abrupting up into mountain cliffs and beyond, flowers blooming even when time feels wrong, water-waves crashing into rock, mist sliding across landscapes like blankets fold across my loves naked body under morning sun light embracing the air of the sacred room. things have changed as all things do and the dream is not gone but it has moved into new territory and where ever it was that i’d thought i ‘d be i’m not, but most everything else seems as in a way it could well have been, i suppose….

i’m watching things as they appear, frustration with my life sometimes, curses still swing around from jealous folk, belief-systems of new world friends tearing at my throat, nonsense minds still trying to create worlds that could never exist and that wouldn’t be so difficult but then again, when they constantly attempt to make their issues transformed into something glamorous and wrap it around my neck and attempt to force me to own it as if it was mine, that’s hard.

out here things are simpler and if it weren’t for the medium of social internet content i’d hear nothin at all but their love that sometimes swings across the universe and lands right deep into my heart, but how seldom is that?

the autumn is well on its way again here in the mountains and that restless feeling is tender this time, seems to have given in for awhile….maybe this time it will pass unnoticed, possibly i have paid some dues and now smooth sailing will break the mould. i don’t count on anything tho, the shift in wind can happen so quick, one minute the shallow world is so amusing and the next it stops you mid flight, bangs you around awhile then throws you into dirt. we got our politics to be concerned about, maybe another world war is brewing, maybe the last one of its kind with nuclear chemistry and new modern low and high death inducing frequencies to distort all life on this planet to unimaginable sci-fi catastrophes that no one would ever want to endure or ever wish upon their worst enemy, but they do.

today is beautiful, the sun is massaging my skin with a warmth well beyond the usual like it was here to love me to care for my wounds and to share its light for my broken soul and the air is slightly cool, the way it can lift your spirit without knowing, a feeling that it is all just fine, everything, just fine.

the world is sick probably beyond repair and the earth is damaged terribly and mankind has thought itself into this insane superior space like no comparison can be……we wait the few of us that have left all beliefs in the ditch of stupidity and walk on in different roles, there is no way out there is no way in, thought will weave in and out of existence till man is done…..that is not my concern anymore, the sun is all that matters at the moment and i walk and that is it.

Back Here:

The air is mexican and i am fine alone down here where i belong far away from the maddening crowds of the crowded empty streets north. I love things i can’t explain, my sisters, my brother, my nieces and nephews and all their children and children and children that i don’t even know. I have friends i don’t see enough of and i love to miss them with their tenderness in my mind. Some of my family and friends have been very special at different times in my life and i know i have hurt some with occasional ruthless lessons. If i could i would place my love within their hearts just to let them know i have cared deep for them. To show them that life has only one meaning, to care, no matter what beliefs have separated us, love pierces all thought and just remains simple in the air between us and then fades back into the silence. We travel this way all of our lives swinging the roads between heaven and hell, kindness and cruelty in action of secret thought.


From a Few Days Back

So here i am down in Mexico. So many years ago i travelled to so many places in this country. I remember living in Mexico City and all the adventures. I was alone and had no friends or family to confide with. There was no internet, facetime, facebook, skype or whatever. Today people don’t really travel anywhere, their wifi-phone is glued to their hand, they document every move, they never go anywhere without it. It’s a different world. I am not sure where i am, nothing really makes much sense to me anymore. People taking pictures with smiles frozen on their face. They have done it thousands of times now. Before they even get to the next scene they’ve exposed it all over the net. The world wide web has gotten people together but it has taken them further away from themselves, so just how close can they get, one surface to another? I don’t believe in much anymore and i know that that has torn family and friends from me. People believe they need something to believe in and i say no you don’t. Sure it will tear you around in a circle when you throw at me your conclusions and justifications for your world but to me none of this make sense to me anymore. You all want to believe in what you believe in and seldom question belief itself or the process, you just take it for granite that it must be right and it has to exist. Seems logical as if it is the language of the mystery that is behind it all…….no, it is way beyond the frivolous conclusions of logic, math, religion and science. How can i know this, i’ve been on the edge of thought too many times in this life time, it’s unexplainable and no one can understand the roadless road unless you’ve been there……often.

If i could i’d live like a coyote without family and friends but i can’t and i know that, this is my dilemma and eventually it will be the dilemma of mankind. Many people are coming to this conclusion in one way or another. I find some of my older friends are taking to what they grew up with just to keep their mind at peace. I don’t have that problem. I have been thinking of these things since i was a boy in one way or another. My whole life was a quest to find the truth. Most people don’t like what i have found so avoid the topic or simply avoid me. It’s complicated to attempt to express with words; it is difficult enough to experience let alone pass it along, so i don’t try any more. It doesn’t matter, the world will go on its way no matter what i think no matter what anyone thinks.

I do find the friends that are still so attached to politics or/and religion somewhat annoying at times. I have little time for the ones that try to prove they ‘no where it’s at’. It doesn’t matter, i just stay way. That explains why i seldom go thru facebook anymore, or social events, don’t know why i ever did? I suppose i get lonely sometimes and need some affection from some that seem to love me know matter what. Me, i care also but i do have to admit i find many people rather boring and i suppose i always did. I like short quick conversations unless it reaches the depth of ones soul and no i don’t act like i know there is a soul or a spirit and it is not as if i am naive. I have, more than most i know, attempted the depths of the mind thru many procedures that eliminates thought in its wake. So i don’t need some lecture about things most people have no clue about, they just want to be safe in their mind and feel the comfort of their beliefs. So be it. I don’t care. I don’t have to care. I never made any arrangements with the devil or any promises i haven’t kept to the ‘mystery’. I am free of all of you and it is rather useless to say and yes i love you all when i don’t even know what love is but i do have it and anyone that knew me or knows me with what ever amount they think they possess, yes, i care a great deal, i have cared a great deal, call it what you want. I am there for you, i would crawl to the ends of the earth for a few. Sierra comes to mind. I would give my live up for her to have a life to experience in any way she feels, and i don’t believe i would have done that for anyone but her.

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.

Back to Mexican Air

stops you sometimes when you least expect it right there in your tracks and all you can do is react with one of your selves with whatever way it appears and then it happens like thunder in a clear sky loud and shocking and you have to face the situation no matter what…..that’s the way i feel sometimes walking thru this world with my head like a dump truck full of dreams and lost homes. that’s what’s goin on here in this dingy hotel room filled with prison-like walls. this will all change in a few minutes when i get back out on the street and wander towards the beach. this is the price you pay when you spent your life and money trying to save a world that is conditioned to die with dead species withering on its grave. the air is stagnant in here but the walls are painted cream like the foam in the oceans grudge from high rise condos, hotel sewage camouflaged with carcinogenic chemistry.

we move on with tender thought shallow in the brain and wonderfully stretch out on the beach beds in ones self contained pleasure. the breeze the sound of waves caressing the sand along the coast, it’s all good. then I’m back here and it’s all quiet at the moment.

the air has shifted and the sound of bad reverb radio fills the stairwells and the house maid cleaning rooms for the long weekend. this was the only hotel vacant on this holiday weekend celebrating the revolution so long ago and now forgotten with beer and celebration.

how could i have known i’d end up here down in mexico at this time in this life. when i awoke with no identity to call my own here i was back ahead of myself living some sort of dream attempting to realize itself and i just went along for the ride down thru mexican streets watching what once was so romantic and now just another civilization with no purpose but to live as they are. the streets dressed in hundreds of years of worn cobble stone and tales embedded into their fibre like memory and love sweat blood religion caressing the very air hot and slow across time like paintings do.

the tourists and their little furry comforts they call dogs, pot bellys of bad health from years in american suburbs treating their bodies as if they own them and waiting for heaven to fix it all up but they now know its almost too late cept for a few more pleasant illusions of romance here along the mexican roads with food set for queens and kings they dreamt of and they eat this, privileged while beggars watch with dreary eyes sagging and smiles weak upon their face.

the waves along the shore soothe even the warped of minds and kiss dreams with silence hidden so tight between their thoughts. life is worth it all they think with memory falling away along the coast and serene love emanating from the very core of their being, but they ignore it.

i hesitate occasionally at words trying to express themselves with thoughts that can’t be understood, who are they, who am i, what’s the point in describing this night along the board walk here in what’s been called puerto vallarta, what am i doing here, women cops with cell phones and guns walk by in their tight white clothes, bums sexy in the breeze. women and  numerous couples old and young, gay men in cloth tight against their skin, traditional mexican music slips thru the air like it should. a young boy plays a toy guitar singing ‘bom bom bomba’ with a sweet angelic voice meant for heaven and no one stops to listen or to throw a few coins in his styrofoam cup. an older wrinkled and worn woman sells roses and fades into the past the whole scene is getting ready to end as i come to my senses and remember who i thought i was.

i really am here as far as i can tell, the magic is what ever is, the world is dying and I’m feeling fine here in the cool breeze sent in from pacific waves with no message and i am gone again.

This is now here and i see the sincerity on the eyes of so many of the poor as i stroll thru cobble stoned streets of old puerto vallarta. It seems they understand a love that has been lost amidst so many from the privileged north of the border. Over all, people are people and given the chance they shine or they don’t and it’s anybody’s guess why that is. It’s getting late and i need to weave in and out of the streets to my hotel.

Here, later in the night in my mexican hotel room off in an old neighbourhood and things are clear.

How come so many on this planet want to believe in fantasies about christ, buddha, mahamad, parallel realities, afterlives, power ego-control, music, feelings, love, everything will be alright, was meant to be, people dragging their thoughts through hell to prove they’re right and happy. None of this matters. It doesn’t make anything right and true to force the brain into some paradise while they remain miserable inside.

There is no point in attempting to explain. Your visions from dream states to deep feelings or altered states no matter where or how they have conjured the mind to believing in themselves; none of this makes it true and real. We are all made up like virtual intelligence on a computer hard drive, the illusion of mind on a brain, it’s all made up, fake, make-belief and tho this may be true it doesn’t dispute the sheer beauty and sadness of life. One only has to observe with a clear mind to see that life just is. It doesn’t have to make sense. There are no ultimate conclusions, nothing that one must be, aspire to be. One just does what one does. We don’t need any god to believe in, any science to control our senses, any religion to keep us kind. Thought is simply a tool to use as a means to assist us in realizing everything is connected and sacred. There is no higher or lower intelligence. All is in an unequal balance of meaning that thought can never know. There is no higher consciousness to aspire to, no god to meet, no truth that is not already embedded in your brain. There is no new realization of love. Simply to observe the infallibility of thought and to scrape away the thousands of years of rituals, ceremonies, dogma of all thought will leave one natural and free.

I have no idea whether that is even possible. All i know is that there is absolutely no road to truth, to the mystery of god, the intelligence eminent within the universe. That is obvious. We are here to serve a mystery we can never know and thought has taken us on a wild ride attempting to convince us of ideals from jesus to scientific absolute laws. We can never understand the mystery of the universe and every attempt simply takes us further away from natural freedom, as an ant to a whale, to a plant to the wild waters of consciousness  itself. Thought is our prison.

I know everybody wants to hear something that resonates with what they have developed to believe in. It doesn’t have to be scary to let go of ones identity, it’s a smooth sailing into death whether it is death of mind or death of body which will eliminate the mind as it goes. I know that so many want to believe there is some sort of transformation of mind into the other afterworld. If one has experienced the elimination of mind in this life, one can see the truth of the falseness of mind itself. Without mind the awareness has no conceptual relationship to ritual,  dogma, heavens, hells and all the nonsense conjured by the eons of desires of man for salvation, meaning, afterlife’s of any kind. It is only the remanence of desire floating around that gives us miraculous visions to hold as sacred, but they are as unreal as a hologram hallucination in dream state, awake or under ceremonial conditions that appear more real than normal reality itself. That is just another level or an unordinary reality that makes it seem so rare and true.

How do i know this?

I know this because i have experienced many visions under many conditions thru many ceremonies and rituals with and without helpers of hallucinogenics, fasting, visions quests, sweat lodge ceremonies, messages from animals, birds, trees, plants, waters, feathers, statues, sacred medicines, teachers, real and spirit related, the native american sacred pipe and others seen and unseen entities of pure light and energy.

All this knowledge and awareness of knowing led me to the uncovering of the fundamental problem itself. The arrogant and selfish desire of thought to believe in itself and to take its realm into a world it can not know, and that world is the world of the great mystery itself. All thought is doomed to suffer its end as mind discovers its illusion of existence.

Where does that leave man?

I have no idea but i do know that i can not know with thought and there is no other way to understand with the constant control that thought demands of itself. It is conditioned to believe in what it thinks. It cannot escape this terrain and there is no way out for it. A transformation of man possibly may take place, one that puts thought into its place without any relationship to the observation of the brain. A tool to use as a crow uses its wit to open up nuts by dropping them at street light intersections to have cars run over them to break them open. A form of science that is constantly on trial, not the science that we have created believing in fantasies about the ultimate absolute laws of the universe and religions creating gods that could never exist or a superiority believing we are greater then other species or more intelligent, and creating sciences that go against natural ways such as euclidean geometry that has infiltrated most of our technology and in doing so has created the pathogenic relationship with life we have today being the basic problem of climate alterations threatening the whole planets life forms

This is the dilemma of mankind.

I understand that many will think i am crazy in one way or another. I could go into detail about the natural implosive energy systems versus our fire infatuation explosive systems that has caused the situation we face today. All this is related to ‘thoughts’ arrogance and its nature to control.

Ancient tribes had a more harmonious way to unite thought and vision together, but even then, more then not, they created thought systems of belief that let to disharmony amongst themselves and the nature surrounding them. But certainly it was much less harmful then the fire technological industrial revolution that eventually entangled their mechanics with the substance of the earth. There was and still are scientists that had seen and know the destructive methods of the dominant science and its finite laws, but money and power is king and very few have truly taken the time and insight to truly investigate this earth-life-destroying problem.

Most people are complaining about symptoms of this completely reversal of natural law. They have no idea of the foundation to the over all problem. We have forced energy into a straight jacket of movement, from combustion technologies to explosive chemicals in the land and food, to containing water in straight lines against its will, to forcing thought to know what it cannot know. It is all related.

To go into detail is not my quest any longer. I have given up on humanity. I see no other way but to live my life out and scrape off the shackles of idealistic thought whenever and wherever i stumble upon it.

I believe that the transformation is already well on its way and it is more honourable to live a life believing in nothing as best as one can, and that alone will enhance the movement of humanity elevating itself to a different relationship with this earth. I don’t believe in any rituals per say though some may help to clear the mind from the brain, but to be careful not to make them your system or god. No pipe, no stones, no feathers, no bones, no crucifixes, no prayer, no system whatsoever.

I don’t have to believe in anything or anybody or to care who agrees or who doesn’t. I don’t have to care about you or me or anything, caring comes along with the territory of walking alone without anything or anybody or any truth or any any thing, nothing is necessary to follow nothing, the great mystery takes care of everything, i eat when i need and can, i drink when i am thirsty and i think when i need to think. Life is good, life is sad, life is wonderful, life is life, truth is a mystery, it does not need anyones meaning. Good nite audience if there is one.

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. My body breathes, sometimes deep sometimes shallow. My body needs exercise continuously. I listen to its plead. I watch that i eat what is most natural made from the mothers hand. I distrust modern processing of most kind but i am open to any information my body and my senses withhold. I can change in a moment. Most thought can be stopped and put on pause in an instant. This can allow truth to be, without my interpretation constantly attempting to control. This is not a perfect way to live. Nothing is perfect when thought intersects what is with what isn’t. This is the best i can do. Possibly nature will alter me beyond any imagination i have, or will ever have while i am still in this body upon this earth. I understand that this body is aging and life travels fast into the grave. To be as best as one can be every moment is all one can do.

I am sorry that so many that surround my life are conditioned into believing that they must hang onto what has been passed down via mind knowledge, genetic knowledge, and the illusions of truth they abide by that has left our relationship on edge, argumentative, debatable at times and all which i have no use for any longer. So we often hide behind our shields. They say things, like as in a loved one that has passed away, that he or she is up there looking down upon us, or we will meet them when we go, bla bla bla, and since it is the common belief i have to be silent and let them live there illusions freely. Such is life. I am goin for a walk now, a long walk alone.

Sasha will be here tomorrow and we can travel together for a couple of weeks and then back to BC and its cold damp atmosphere with a real wood stove fire inside. My bones prefer this hot climate. It is what it is.

And to all my friends on a similar path as i, keep walking and to all my friends that secretly despise me, keep walking, and to the rest of humanity, keep walking.

a bird with no feet will sleep in the wind

Things have changed as they always do, attitudes weaken others gain strength. We found a beautiful little fishing village, Los Ayalla, a couple hours north of Puerto Vallarta off the highway and hardly a north american in sight. It is too rough, too raw for most, even the cool ones seems to avoid it here. This all suits us fine. The tourists here are mexican enjoying the beach and a weekend away from their often tedious and monotonous lives. Mexico is mexico, they seem to have a tolerance a few metres above the northern people for annoying music, noice, organized sounds thru-out the hot air hanging in the streets. Many times it can be quite romantic along the sands of the waves of the coast, with vendors selling baked fish, shrimp and other tasty treats. Life is good again, it is always worth living but that doesn’t dispute the sheer meaninglessness of the myth of minds gathering in herds like schools of fish do along the coast. People presume you need to have some sort of belief system in something, anything to enjoy or have a meaningful life. You don’t. Meaning weaves in and out of the day as wind along the wavering coast. It changes, one can’t stop the endless murmur of the mind but one can see it as it folds in and out along the coast-line of mind. Simply speaking the mind is the content of the hard drive that the mind has named the brain. It will all seem ‘passé’, as artificial intelligence becomes more predominant and we are forced to realize that we have created a machine that can out perform us in most endeavours. Many want to believe therefor, we were meant for a higher purpose, but again the mind conjectured that with the tools of reason and logic and mathematics and faith and all the systems of believe that mankind has conjured since we left the garden of eden, ate from the apple, saw the monolith, began to reason. Thought is a tool but one that is limited and can not know the infinite system this universe is build upon. It appears the mind is so freaked out in becoming aware that it is not infallible, that it creates new systems from the imagination to cement itself once again to the safe, secure, and comfortable ideals of the mind…..but it is an illusion.

The search is for the best illusion of the century and one that one will debate into eternity, but it is meaningless in the scheme of things.

It is terrible how man destroys others because of their firm believes and tortures those that don’t conform to their principles. Whether it is the christian, moslem, communist, a particular realm of science, the capitalist, they are forever dreaming, the idealist, the atheist, conformist, the revolutionary, the nowhere men, the women of mercy…..where ever it is you travel upon this earth people believe in their beliefs and if you torment this circus to any great deal you may find yourself in the cage with the lions.

Whether they are pacifists or not most find a way to manipulate their faith for the benefit of the whole or the longevity of the system, the culture, their way of life and the world must bend to it. Is there an answer? Probably not.

My answer is to observe my thoughts and when i can, throw the words to the winds of time, leave the circle, swim, fly, walk, move on, keep moving on and avoid looking back. Will they come back, oh yea, they always have so far, but not all the way. Are there any persons that have surpassed the hold of thought to the mind and live within this eternity endlessly beyond contradiction. I think so, but that is still irrelevant to this mind, this mind has seen the illusion of mind too often to have any sort of faith in it. I have no hope, no belief to live up to, my faith travels in the unknown mystery of all things seen and unseen. This faith has no system it can spark off, it is beyond feeling itself, it is a knowing beyond knowledge, it is unexplainable in words in thought.

Possibly jesus, lao zhu, buddha and the rest of the gang and thousands of philosophers attempted to lead one to this place, this space, but i say it is all in vain. If you want to experience beyond experience then one must work hard, fast, psychedelics, vision quest, meditate, and there is no certainty that anything will work and most will lead you astray and plaster you with more dogma then the mind can handle and you will eventually be left here alone, and if you’re lucky, thoughtless and free. This is the dilemma and the beauty of man.

These teachings as in, follow me and thou shall see the light, seek and thou shall find truth, etc., there are millions, they are all lies, hinderances to the illusion of the soul…..”watch out for leaders and parking meters”, Bdylan

It still emanates back thru the canyons of my mind that the only thing that i have truly found in seventy years of travelling on this earth and most of it in search, in one way or another, for the truth, is that there is absolutely nothing to find. That in itself may be the only truth that truly exists in the realm of thought. Possibly then and only then may one truly begin to live.

In one way or another Bob Dylans ‘It’s All Right Ma’ says most of this and more and if it doesn’t you will find it in an adjacent song on the album or one of the thousands of songs he has written. But as i said earlier everyone has to find it for himself.

Dylan went thru the bible and jesus and just like a parking meter he parked there for awhile. I didn’t, that was not my journey. I thank many in their assistance along my trail, but i never followed any of them. In fact all the teachers i may have had taught me not to follow anything but myself, my own heart. There is no doubt that psychedelics were my first teacher and they taught me that nature was super intelligent and i am a servant of awareness, nothing more and nothing less. Everything one needs to know is within the body and the brain, the myth of mind changes from individual to individual from specie to specie, some more some less but all in an unequal balance. Thought has twisted this balance and will eventually find its way back into the womb of mother earth. Then it may see its way thru its own validity and die.

I have no idea it is all speculation imagination ejaculation inspiration anticipation isolation, it all goes somewhere but really it goes nowhere.

So what does one do? One works with kindness, and sees, and keeps walking. Once again the mind wants an answer but there is none, never was and never will be. Some will work endlessly to prove what can not be proved and many will follow and believe in this and attempt to convince others. Some will kill to keep this belief, some will hide, some will fight, some will not fight, all will die.

I am hearing the silence of this small mexican town. The hills are covered in trees and lush vegetation. The waves along the coast are hardly visible in my minds ear but i can see them crashing softly against my brain. This world is so incredibly beautiful. Some days are filled with joy beyond itself and a depth of feelings of love for the mere acceptance of everything as everything is. It is difficult to explain what can not be truly understood with words and ultimately thought itself. So the question may be why i have attempted and i would say simply because it is what i do. I now know i don’t expect any particular response from anyone. It has been a way to gather my thoughts to let them go, to understand what i keep realizing i cannot understand. This keeps me busy with constantly coming to similar and sometimes almost the same conclusions and it sometimes makes me feel relieved and at other times, a waste of time, but it is all good. I have a limited amount of time left on this earth and this is my story. If anything it would be nice to make some money to allow me more of these adventures around the earth. Possibly i’ll continue my photography to share some images that might move others as they move me. I simply need more money to allow me the freedom to be as i am, to be as i am not.

It may come and it may not. I am studying day trading on the stock market, this may work for me or this may not. I know that i am quite talented and really should have succeeded financially by now in my life, but i haven’t. There are numerous reasons and conclusions and i neither have the will or desire to explain. It certainly is not because of a lack of talent knowledge, sincerity, study and work. Judge for yourself if it so tickles your curiosity.

This is a new day wrapped in all the genetics of the past and caressing the sunny air along the streets of los allaya. I am content in this fresh perspective without family or friends, without pressure from above, without dreams of a future, without love sworn by conditions. Here i walk free without truth or enemy, without anything to do and nothing to be, alive like the now ever present. The beach is full today, families enjoying their time, vendors selling their wears their foods and musicians making music along the sands of time.

In the evening the streets are alive; a family is dancing on their dusty road to mexican country music like it once was a hundred years ago north. Romance is everywhere, in the hearts of the kids, in the hearts of the aged in their ancient skin, romance still hangs in the streets like dangling lightbulbs from slow tiendas and outside cafes. It is a noisy country, sound slips in when you least expect it, reverb taco radio commercials, hotel california still rides the waves between soft sweet spanish love songs. Most magic immerses this way, a simple worn face smiles as he catches my eye, a young mother holding her kid close to her breast, fresh fruit and vegetables sit quiet in outside bins, new clothes hang off hooks into the streets everywhere where taxis live and electrical wires like trees study the sky. In moments a few hundred years can pass right before your eyes closed, only the sound of life mexican life as it was as it is.

A cat slips under a car and plays with a dangling rope, a few dogs sway along looking for something, anything, a little girl in hand of grandma catches my eye and holds on with thumb in mouth and curiosity for the gringo style of my manners, i wink and keep her wondering down into the darkness of the street. At moments as these i love being alive. Alone, the world could die and i’d be here watching life side by side with dreams escaping the tedious live simple and safe. Many things used to matter but that was yesterday, I’m back on the road again in my mind, i suppose the trail owns me, it has its days and it has its nights and i go with what ever, nothing is excluded, everything falls into place like this street, the music, the sticky air cool in from the sea, my cappuccino, my words filling the universe with thought ready to fade and surrender into the darkness of the night. Nothing is sacred everything is sacred, no space more sacred than another, but here is special, a point in history stretched further than normal. Love seems to enter when eyes say nothing and ears have no agenda, the concept of the myth of mind is somewhere else for the moment. Time has come and walk thru here i must to over there another place another time another dream as it does what it does to this mind, this beautiful beautiful mind. Silence…….

Travellers of all sizes and of all ages and of all class differences now travel the world. The majority stay in large hotels not much different from the location they left. They sneak out into the world to areas the tourist resorts consider safe. Most do not travel into the depths of the cultures they visit. Air flights are so affordable and go to so many different locations that world travelling has become a hobby. People brag about the many locations and often the amount of good times getting drunk and being entertained by various world entertainers. Most tourists are boring, arrogant, privileged, superficial and a detriment to the culture this visit but they mean well they want you to believe.

There are other tourists that slide into the back streets, the slightly more adventurous, the ones that find local bars and hotels and nite life. They get the typical tourist adventures plus more unique local entertainment and trips for the lucky.

Then there are the the ones that venture right off of the beaten track and find places few tourists venture into. They often learn some of the language and make contact with locals for future meetings and communication, even marriage.

There are the ones that venture much past where the locals themselves would venture, these are the explorers, the ones that discover americas and then the followers do the rest of the damage and the rest of the self conclusive good. Here we are, centuries upon centuries of humanity and salvation for what it’s worth.

The afternoon broke with crazy love strung all over the place. She said my love songs irritate her heart. The sharp piercing harmonica kills her serenity, the slow tangled voice is to rough for her silk dreams. She says she can’t understand why i can’t understand and i can’t understand why she can’t get it. Is it possible to continue this broken path and bridge another way? Is it possible to heal these shattered dreams too deep to comprehend? Can this heart find another way where the birds fly free? Are we doomed to hide the truth neath shallow verse, can we bend far enough and hang our dignity safe? Is it really that far away from here where we can be again, true and close anew?

In the turn of time things happen with no definite means to fulfil the apparent rules. The rules have changed, the things that were once true are slumbering along the trail uncertain. Hey, here is exactly the type of situation that i was asking for but all the forms have shifted the faces are all different, even the colour of the minutes have moved into new hues. That’s what you can expect, nothing is the same everything is slightly similar sometimes very similar, and all is different. So you just go with it, do the best with what’s available and keep walking, run if you have to, even crawl when necessary but never never be definite about anything. Bend, twist, curve around things but don’t get pinned down, ever. If you do you’re thru, you can look like you’re standing still at times but let your heart keep moving, see thru the mind like it was transparent, live life as if it belongs to the universe because it does and that is the truth that thought distorts and separates one from our natural state. Thought has been misused and not clearly understood. It possibly is not capable of knowing its limitations. Another understanding or knowing is found in something we may loosely describe as faith. It is a knowing an octave or two  from pre- thought, a place which thought can not enter or explain, tho it attempts endlessly again and again in vain.

You either get it or you don’t and often you think you get it but you don’t. There are billions of questions but there are no answers. Living in the world of thought is a dilemma that mankind cannot surpass and yet we walk on. I have no answer; thought can not know.

The waves are tenderly washing up along the shore line. The sound caresses my mind with silence. The simple beauty of this is lovely. There is no need for anything else to occur. The ocean is black beyond the horizon, love somehow is ever present. Thoughts close to the source act as visions but they are also reflections in time as a home. Everything moves on with intentions we cannot comprehend and love is simply the beauty of life intensified to an acceptance-like surrendering of the magnitude of creation in the making continuously before our eyes. Love is all there is, truth is everywhere, mystery is the thread that weaves the universe into existence. We are stunning creatures that have allowed thought to create a mind of illusions adverse to the nature of life itself. Thought will die when it is mirrored in its nature and when the realization of the interconnectedness of all comes upon it from across the great divide, the waters that separate truth from fiction, thought from the silence of love and eternal beauty.

I write because i do…..sleep has tapped upon this brain.

Just leaving the autumn of my life approaching the last winter. Time has left me here without anymore than i came with. A few remains of homes and dreams fading to the wind. The last love here beside me, the gift of a life time and i thank the mystery for that. All others i had left or they had left me. I have little regret tangled in the web of past but there were dreams i had forsaken for useless paths and the thought at times brings the treasure of sadness soft and warm for the winter approaching. She was one i had let go that created a sadness in her till her passing. That was not what i had meant to do and i am sorry for asking for answers i did not fulfil. I paid dearly for this but she paid more. There were others that came and went along the boulevard of romance, the streets of love touched time and magic one can only feel deep within ones heart. All came and went and memories like the ripples of sand along the beach will diminish, refine, and vanish like all things do.

When you’re young beliefs come slow and questioned often until they settle in ones soul with unforeseen consequences if one should sway away with burning bridges kissed upon the trail. Everything is up for debate as far as ones reason and experience can tolerate. Most settle for comforts in ones mind and follow the trends of times. They carry on traditions, associate within one community, attempt to live free within their beautified prison walls.

It is not that way for the searcher, the one that takes it to the limit most of the time, the one that burns every bridge, the one that looks back only with a microscope of disbelief. I am one of those and sometimes i just fantasize about being one of them, the simpler man with his dreams half broken and his ideals abused but with the worn smile from a torn but contented heart. Yes to be one of them, sometimes, that would be good.

The time in mexico is coming to an end. The adventures will slip further and further into memory as everything does. Sasha has already left and i leave in a couple of days.

She went for an early morning walk on the beach of Los Allala a few day ago, only to find herself surrounded by three large dogs; a mongrel, a radwiller and the main horny pursuer, a german scheppard. They attempted to rape her. She got down on the beach for a short rest when they noticed her and surrounded her and the shepherd attempted to humb her naked legs and scratched her severely while the rattwiler was loosely holding her wrist in his mouth. Sasha tried to stay cool and get them off of her and it was getting serious when all of a sudden something distracted them and they rambled off. She came back with numerous scratches, quite shaken and in need of a warm embrace.

A few nights later in Puerto Vallarta we were sitting in an outside cafe having a meal and a few brandies. We had one joint given to us by a cool dude in a northern beach town that i had kept in my bag. Sasha thought we could smoke it right there by the waves rolling close to our table. Memories and experience said no and so when we left the cafe we lit it up by the waters edge, a twenty to thirty metre span to the meladone, the boardwalk by the ocean in the centro of town. As soon as we were done and now with half a joint now in my hoody’s pocket and back on the cement boardwalk, two Policia approached us and harassed us.

Memories of 35 years earlier quickly immersed when i had been interrogated on a vacant beach south of alcapoca by five military with sub machine guns on horse back for 5 hours now lay haunting my skull and in anticipation i reacted fast.

They said we saw you smoking marijuana, we didn’t admit to anything history taught me that. We offered them our bags to inspect. They knew the drill, they’ve done it hundreds of times. They know who to freak out and who they can get money from and who they can’t. They are not always right but they read it pretty accurate. We didn’t fit the profile, thank god. I know how they can torture you mentally for hours, days if they want.

We said all there right things without being rude or overly paranoid of the situation, respectful and determined to cooperate but stand our ground. Here’s our bags, we’re canadian, we’re leaving tomorrow. They let us go after ten minutes.

We were shaken for a few hours.

Their policies will have to shift drastically or many canadians will find alternative vacation locations. Marijuana is almost legal in Canada and people wont go on a holiday where they can’t enjoy their choice of mind alterations.

It is so corrupt down here which means you need to know what you can and cannot do and where and when it is appropriate. With corruption everywhere from the bottom to the top it can be tricky business. Such is life.

Sasha had a unique perspective realizing that the dog adventure was at least simpler to understand and deal with in a natural way, whereas the cops as corrupt as they are and with the human element, have their hidden agendas which makes it difficult to utilize your natural intuition. Both situations are dangerous and each literally could get you killed. With the dogs you may know why but with the cops you could end up being a main character in a Kafka Trial Novel somewhere in the hands of a retired tourist sitting in a cafe along a boulevard passing his day reading someone else’s fictionalized life from a book.

There were so many fantastic happenings, in this yet another tour of the latin quarters of america, one simply just has to keep walking.

A couple of new blondes looking like they just crawled out of an ashtray baked in the sun for thirty years with a cigarette hanging from their lips. Media is everywhere, on screens, out of speakers, embedded in tattoos, labels on their clothes, graffiti on the walls, symbols on the floors. Its a noisy world, loud and meaningless, drunks and lovers living some sort of dream thru-out all streets of centro Puerto Vallarta……this is not unique, it is everywhere on this earth. People desperate for ecstasy at all cost.

I got a smoothy out in one of the cafes, the hotel room is still too noisy from young kids with parents that lack discipline. Soon, in a few years, they will be out here whooping it up in the cafes and local bars.

There is a woman sitting across from me with a friend, she appears to be rare, delicate, refined, soft spoken, a lady sensitive in this loud air. People seem to yell louder and louder as the years go on, as the world becomes more and more tainted with twisted despair hidden in their souls. She has a beautiful smile with dangling earrings but who knows what she is really like, probably beaten-in from some sort of society abuse, it seems we all are in one way or another. There are those rare gems though, i have met them occasionally. The bar next door is getting loud and louder with some gringos getting out of control. Time to leave.

All in all america has spread itself around the globe, the freedom to do what ever one pleases, the self confidence to build dreams out of damaged air. The circus is everywhere, fat midget brained and the undertakers all eating the sweet dreams from restaurants franchised by medical miracle profits. The dark ages are alive and well in the streets of saviours and criminals. Wars for dirty water oiled by the mighty giants in the underworld. Everything is just as it should be, the flight is on time, the secrets have escaped and most are playing ancient games on modern screens and fantasying being warriors in digitized movies.

The desert looks bleak from ten kilometres high, the snow peaked mountains look cold, rays of the warm orange sun glows across the valley floors and the all so surreal shift of flight and background roar of engine keeps on.

The colours of the rainbow are ash grey….

Feb 10 2018…continuations beyond the term

the late evening is here close within me, the stars are hiding, the air is thick, the wounds of earth are whispering sadness round the heart, fire slowly burning out across the fields of time. all history of man has come down for this, this simple view of the end of things as they were, disease will take it on in from here. people will become not people; love will remain the same unchanged still beyond the reach of hope and silly certainties. i am of no importance in the vast space of time, movement is all, the shift from here to there will be guided by no human touch……..light will become dark, breath will go slow almost stop before time will end and eternity will be ever present. this is the way of the universe, a slow presence beyond the speed of zero whereas all things must pass become one and multiply of form similar and different thru the endless cycle of mystery, the greatest mystery where i am not we are not there is not and the word dead with ships and dreams.

Beyond No Doubt in Jest

Take me on an endless trip

And remove that’s all unreal

This road hasn’t been an easy one

That has led my thoughts to feel

That all that really matters

Is ta know that you don’t know

But it’s so hard

Gettin’ on that oneness road


Memories hit, old habits grip

Puts ya right back down

And the more you fall the harder it is

With pleasures all around

Makes it so hard

Gettin’ on that oneness road

Where all that really matters

Is ta know that you don’t know














You better leave i tell myself

Or they’ll kill all your resistance

Then plaster you with secure beliefs

That depends on their assistance

And you’ll be where

You swore you’d never go

And you’ll deny

What you don’t really know


Take me away from this weary crowd

Far beyond my dreams

Open up to me one door

That closes when one leaves

Take me fadin, tripin

Through that mighty storm

I promise i’ll fight the night

Until the early morn

Where all that really matters

Is ta know that you don’t know

But it’s so hard getting on

Just getting on that oneness road

Fall 71  Patrick Wey

to everybody but you

i just want to go and hide for awhile
be alone with you
talk to you about nothing
and believe you are there
i know where it’s at
and who to trust
what to do and who can help
but i don’t care
i don’t care right now
i just want to not know about this world
and all its conditions and all its beliefs
i don’t give a damn what you think
or how wise you think you are
or the colour of your karma
or the stretch across your neck
leave me alone and shut the fuck up
about all your clever conclusions to your higher self
get out of my mind and leave me here alone
i just want to let you know what i can’t

to make you feel my love
touch your heart with my complete attention
i just want your simple love hanging around a while longer
just until i can walk again
feel your love in every gaze
hold your truth in the night
smile with you along the trail
then move along alone without you
sad but real till the morning comes

Sierra Kachina

i know i shouldn’t tell you but things happen quick

i know i shouldn’t tell you but i will
well at least with a few of the worn out syllables screwed in deep
the day ended like we presumed it would
loss of everything but a few matches and dead pens
i liked the way you curled up inside
like you were wasted on something
like you knew it was happening
like it would never end
like eternity was really eternal

well that was then and this is then also
the microbes are eating fast
the last, the remaining, the end


they all lied and made us blind

everyday i am more aware of death surrounding me. how did i become what ever it is i am? words become as mysterious as the wind. they cannot know anything absolute, they are as limited as my life, any perceived truth lasts awhile wrapped in the winds of illusion, then fades and dies. They all end, transform, move along this forever changing universe.

are there any facts? all knowledge is based on comparison, measurement and judgement. all knowledge is theory, though there is no doubt that some so called facts appear to be more of a reality then others. the ‘fact’ is is that everything changes. some optimists believe that thought in the form of ‘ideals’ can be absolute. they are mistaken. thought itself is based on experience, the past and can never be within the moment, the now, the ultimate reality. if there is truth it must be found within the present moment without thought.

thought is a tool, a very complex manipulative continuity that is always vague, uncertain and most often very destructive.

it has created all the gods, the demons, worlds to escape our dilemma. thought has created the you, your identity, your character, your belief system, your god, your no-god, your science, your cleverness, your nationalism, your differences. it does not own the body, the body belongs to evolution, only the thought based image of ‘you’ is unreal.

Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin’ to be so quietWe sit here strandedthough we‘re all doin’ our best to deny it….b.dylan

the fact is is that as far as we can see we are beings we call humans which have evolved over millenniums upon millenniums, thru genetics, cultural behaviours and belief systems. we are clearly beings with accumulated thought designs unlike any other specie upon this planet.

thought itself has separated us, allowed us to seemingly control what it is that created us, which we have called ‘nature’, mother nature. thought seems to act as if it knows what it cannot know and convinces ourselves and in turn forces it upon others and the crowd.

it interweaves itself into faith based religions, dogmas which cause differences which in turn cause more illusions upon illusions, terrible wars, entertainments, sports, toys, games, fantasies all leading us away from the terrifying questions that cannot be answered with this tool called thought, so we create more illusions mistaken as reality to cope with this dilemma…

we live in fear hidden by our illusions, our manufactured happiness, our hypnotic saintly visions, our possessions, our accumulated ideals. we fear to face the few facts left in the wake of our investigations, we smother them with gratitude, hope, faith, after lives, and what ever else the imagination can scrape up from the meaningless experiences stuck into our cells.

Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin’ to be so quietWe sit here strandedthough we‘re all doin’ our best to deny it….b.dylan

i refuse to buy into this world of man, 

all the clever conclusions to trap the mind

the saints and gurus and jesuses and buddas

they all lied and made us blind

snake luck….excerpts from journals

Snake Luck: the Yarn Painting

It was my third year to Wirikuta, the sacred lands of the Huichol Indians who live along the western Pacific coast of Mexico. Huichol shamans, or shamans-to-be, travel the long way to Wirikuta for six consecutive years  in order to unite with the spirit of Peyote and fulfil their commitment to becoming a shaman. Wirikuta is an inland desert south of Texas stretching a few hundred miles into Mexico. As synchronicity would have it, I found this place three years earlier. This year it came to me to go to the sacred lands alone and take the sacred peyote for further instructions.
This was done. I traveled down by air to San Antonio, Texas, and then by bus to Real De Cortorce, an ancient city in the mountain range along the eastern side of the desert, Wirikuta.

This was my third year to Wirikuta. I was on a mission to complete the six-year pilgrimage. It seemed at the time, that the calling came from a deep place within my soul. During this particular time in the mythological world of peyote, I was given the opportunity to throw myself into the abyss with the possibility of no return. This was the way of the warrior. I took the plunge.
There was no “Patrick Wey” left within this realm. The “I” was gone. Spirit was in charge, wielding strength only the soul can know. I had to go. This was my mission.
Twice in the night snakes saved me from an endless fall into nothingness. The first time, I was soaring downwards into complete darkness, void of anything, when suddenly there was a rope dangling in front of me. I grabbed it and as I began to climb upwards to who knows where; I realized this rope was made of hundreds of snakes woven around each other. By the time I reached a plateau, I held a dead snake in my hand’s grip. At that moment a wolf came along. I tore pieces of the snake apart and fed it to him by hand without question or motive. This all happened as real as dream with no questions asked.

I returned to “Patrick” feeling honoured, amazed by the more than life-like reality of it all. These experiences still ring with a reality that caresses a destiny embedded in my heart.

I sat there by the fire and let the spirit of Peyote continue within me. Later another trance-like experience took shape. I again had the opportunity to jump into the abyss of a new life or no-life or death or whatever may come about; a brave leap, what some may consider a “leap of faith”.
This time, after falling endlessly which seemed a long time, possibly years, timeless in a world-less state of dark space and silence, a feeling of nothingness within my mind, there then, a huge snake sailed along beside me and allowed me to take refuge upon its back. It was as if it was send to help me from my endless fall. I was on top of  the head of the gigantic dark snake and could see nothing but darkness. I could feel the moist texture of its skin and the frayed shape of its head. The dark space smelt of deep moist cave, fresh clay earth and energy like the perfume of spirit.
After roaming about for sometime, left and right and then a sudden soaring upwards it reached a ledge where it smoothly stopped. The entrance to a cave and without hesitation i knew this was my exit. It allowed me to run across the top of its head onto the rocks of the ledge. I looked back as I was running, in reverence and thanks for saving me, when the huge snake, with a quick hiss from its tongue, spurted an electric sensation from its tongue to my behind and through a telepathic message implanted within my spirit it said, “now get going”.
I ran into the future with the strength and confidence to live a strong life no matter what arises. This meaning, this feeling of confidence and strength has kept itself alive all these years inside my heart. When I find myself in troubled times or without the will to go on, it reappears.
This is Snake Luck.

In the morning, I travelled to the summit of the most sacred space of the Huichol. A mountain just outside of Real De Catorce. I sat in my spot within the sacred circle—the same spot that I found the previous year. I felt the presence of the earth within my soul and i pondered there without much thought and after an hour or so I decided to descend. I was no further than a few hundred yards down the trail when a strong message emanated from within to go back to that very spot within the circle and lay down and sleep. I walked back up the mountain and no sooner had I sat down than I immediately fell over and into a deep sleep.
My mind went over many situations and images from my very early youth to the present day, showing me all the moments that were interwoven to eventually get me here to this spot in time, this place, this mission, this fate. It all made sense and resonated with a true continuity—the one that holds this universe together—like a web of sacred moments interspersed along my path with almost irrelevant or wasted time between. It seemed as if I could do whatever I pleased between these moments, but with regards to the sacred moments I had no choice; these sacred moments would occur, is my destiny, no matter what I did, i had no choice.
So here I was sitting on a mountain in Mexico where thousands of Huichol had sat before me. All with their missions and fates rustling in the wind off the plains of Wirikuta. I felt great, alive, like a nobody with a somebody emanating within, like a super being emerging from my soul, the winds across the horizon.
I was told in this space that it was not my path to return here for six years, as i had wished, but that soon, something else would come to lead me along my trail. I could return for reverence, but this was not my path, not my way.
All too soon, upon my return to Canada, things changed drastically.

After my time in Wirikuta I decided to travel to Tepic, near Puerto Vallarta in the Sierra Madre Mountains near Itxlan to visit Prem Das the Shaman with whom I travelled to the desert in my second year to Wirikuta. Prem Das has an amazing story himself, married to the niece of Don Hose Matsuwa, the 110 year-old Huichol Medicine Man and whom Prem Das spent 12 years in the Sierra Madre Mountains with, after returning from India. I spent a few very interesting nights with Don Hose the year previous, accompanied by a few friends I met in the desert with Prem Das.

Prem Das told me that my friends Leo and Raven (from that previous year in the desert) were in town gathering Huichol Yarn Paintings from Cristobal Gonzalez, Don Hose’s nephew and a Huichol Shaman Yarn Painter.  I connected with them and went with Leo to Cristobal’s house to visit and gather Yarn Paintings for the very first showing of Yarn Paintings in New York City.

Leo gathered all of the 25 or so paintings and I helped him load the pieces into his vehicle. As we were saying goodbye to Cristobal, I noticed this one painting left against the wall. It was in plain view, yet unnoticed until now. It was a picture of two snakes emanating from a fire curled into a circle and it was spitting energy into a Marakami (Shaman).
After my recent snake experiences, it definitely caught my attention. I asked Cristobal about this painting and he told me that when a person goes for the first time alone into the dessert and into peyote’s abyss they often encounter the reptilian world.
Neuroscience calls this pre-animal evolutionary state, the “reptilian brain”.
In the yarn painting the two snakes are hissing into the ears of a Shaman to wake him up and get him moving. Cristobal said that when snakes save someone, he or she could expect some great luck to appear.
I later asked Leo why he didn’t take this particular painting. He had taken every other painting that Cristobal had there. Leo said he didn’t see it; he said, “it must have been meant for you.”
I took it home with me and to this day it hangs in my bedroom. As I wake in the morning, I often fall into this mythological world that is so much a part of my life. It seems to always reconnect me to a world deep inside myself.


The quantity of peyote I took was four large buttons about two and a half inches wide and a few inches long. The first time that I ingested this amount I became aware that this was maybe ten times more potent than any LSD or Mescaline I had taken in the sixties or seventies.
This amount puts you in a state of no return; the spirit takes over and the familiar-you is not there, here any longer. I became aware that this is the best way to deal with the relationship between you and it, the spirit of Peyote. The mind is not ours; it belongs to the evolutionary process of the earth, the universe. I am not brave, I fear the release of the ego as much as any ego does, but I am not afraid of facing the fear and letting the ego melt into the night, as it will, when death comes upon me, as it will to all of us.

In later years events accumulated and added more mystery to this story, my story.

Below is an excerpt from my journal dated 2005-03-17…St Patrick’s Day.

Ever since I was a young lad, I considered myself some sort of anti-St. Patrick and years later…

In the dessert with peyote around my skull and the underworld within my head, I headed straight into the abyss. My deep self took the chance, the chance of no return; I don’t know why, it seemed like it was meant to be. I headed into nothingness, into darkness. I was falling fast; there was nothingness everywhere inside out, upside down, falling. Twice in that desert night snakes saved me from the darkness of where everything begins.

My visions are personal, of no use to anyone but possibly myself.

Years have past into years, dreams and visions took site of the serpent, in the reality of the earth, in the magic of my mind; she lured me into the silence, the serpent, the earth dragon presented herself often throughout the sliding, winding years.

Much later, through synchronicity, I ended up in Ireland. I ran a sweat lodge there for eight months. I traveled to all the Celtic Sacred Places where St. Patrick desecrated the space with his Christian dogma. He drove the snakes off the island, and with them, the symbol of the power of woman. Throughout the centuries his masculine god-fearing religion spread itself across the land like a disease. I, Patrick Thomas—named after the nurse’s dead fiancé from county Cork, the nurse-woman that helped bring me into this world, and in the spirit of that name—I, Patrick Thomas, was born in Canada, brought back the spirit of “snake.” I carried the snake back into the land. This was part of my mission; it revealed itself along the way as a river does, curving in and around the land.

Green beer and a few billion scars are mostly all that remain of St. Patrick’s Day!…but that will change!

Cristobal Gonzalez  http://www.glueyarn.com/site/Hildo_Bautista_and_Others.html#27

Snake Luck: the Photograph

For the Snake Luck piece, I used a piece of styrofoam, two feet by two feet, and an inch thick; first I painted the sides flat black and floated the original Yarn Painting on it. The scenic power line vista is one I see on my drive into town.
I knew that the right moment would arise for another of my puddle-reflection photographs. After a heavy rain, I packed up the Yarn Painting and just before sunset, I headed out to this spot. I floated the yarn painting onto the water and moved it into composition position with a stick. I knew what I wanted with this shot. It represents the magic and truth of the underworld of indigenous peoples of North America (predominately the Huichol since it features this particular Yarn Painting by Cristobal Gonzalez and the spirit of Peyote which spread into the north in the late 1800’s).
This image is symbolic, not only of my personal mythical unfolding, but also a truth to which we can all relate; a universal unfolding of truth. The hydro robots represent all the comfort and false securities being hauled into town in the form of an archaic electrical energy possibly to be surpassed by a more earth-friendly form of science. This is the good luck of the snake, the earth dragon, that will turn the focus back toward feminine energy. Thus, the picture represents the dichotomy between the currently grossly misused dominant masculine energy that is an explosive, fire, technological system versus the cool inwards vortexing water, implosive, levitational system evolving in the shadows of the earth.

that’s the way to see

it takes great discipline to observe, to listen from within
there’s a billion ways to escape
yet none of them can find love
peace of mind isn’t there
and yet it’s everywhere

watch your thought where ever it may go
if it owns you, you’re lost
see it, feel it, observe its every move
this is the only way to freedom
nothing owns you
when you see thru youScreen Shot 2014-12-30 at 12.23.48 PM

i can hear the crickets
the frogs and the silence between
everything is moving on
from scene to scene
watch it and let it be
that’s the way to freedom
that’s the way to see

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Where ever you are, you are!

Where ever you are, you are, no matter whether you like it or not. What’s the point in filling your brain up with so called positive concepts. Mankind has been trying to do this for thousands of years with little results. You don’t have to try and find love, truth, god, if they exist they exist, mankind didn’t make them up and mankind cannot find them. They are beyond the reach of thought. To eliminate shit in body, mind and spirit is to come upon the other, not the other way around. So all you Facebook fanatics trying to convince yourself and the world to be positive are wasting your precious time when you could be eliminating what is not love, truth, god. Your love is not love, your race is not the answer, your belief in jesus, mohammed, budha and who have you, is not going to get you anywhere. Elimination is the job, but not with more concepts and fancy conclusions that just add to the problem. The problem is your lack of understanding in the limitations of thought. Thought put it all together, but thought can not take it apart. Observe, trust in the other. This takes much more discipline than you could ever imagine, and good luck, sometimes, life is hard.

It was with doubt….

It was with doubt that i imagined this afternoon without imagination and all the destructive elements of a mind conditioned with the abrasive techniques to belong. I was somewhat clear in the haze of the air, the people doing their lives as if they knew it all, but wanted more. The wind was strong, the snow slid across the air lightly and the sun glared against the salt-wet pavement with a feverish intensity. I had no hope as i looked into the eyes of reality, a calm gaze silently observing the noise surrounding me. Those few moments when beauty encompasses everything and love seems to bind all into itself.

I questioned if there was a way to be in this field of grace always, to carry this awareness into every moment of my life. Why does this come and go without any apparent way to create a method to hold onto this way of being. All one can do is to eleviate what is not real, what has been created by the mind replacing what is before you. The constant pursuing of being aware, seeing what is, not changing a thing, watching thought as it weaves in and out of the crevasses on the mind.

the Math of Nature

We call rational numbers whole numbers, numbers that can contain no more because they are whole, numbers that are complete, unto themselves, full. One of these numbers added to another one of these whole numbers equals two of these perfectly whole numbers. That is rationalism. Now we have another set of numbers which we call irrational numbers. These numbers seem to live by another set of rules. Irrational numbers like Pi (the radius times Pi equals the circumference of a circle) or the golden ratio or the Fibonacci sequence seem to go on infinitely. Our modern computers have equated these irrational numbers without an end or a pattern that repeats itself into the billions of digits. For some strange reason some people spend there life trying to find an end to eternity. Each to their own i suppose (but should they really get payed for it, while others are thirsty). Possibly, many of us are quite afraid of living in a world that has a leak in everything, so we will pay anything to get an answer, an ending.

Rational numbers have no real truth in nature. One and one does not equal two, but one of a similar and different thing/concept/space equals two of a similar and different thing/concept/space.

So what! Well it may not seem to matter much to the typical consumer civilian but that may be just one very important realization that could enhance our investigations of why we are here, what our existence might mean and what we are doing with this earth.

How is that? Well if we could truly realize that everything has a slip into infinity we would have to admit that nothing we can know is truly absolute; absolutely nothing. Water is not simply H2O anymore as noted in our laboratories, nothing is the SAME anymore, only approximate, no more absolutes in anything, everything is now ultimately a mystery. No one is perfectly right, no one is an ultimate authority, everything is suspect, on trial so to speak. Is that a big deal, maybe there are multi dimensions, many gods, maybe the history books really did lie, the scriptures, the laws. Anyways, I am not here to dispute any of this, my point is that nature is not confined to absolutes that we as human beings can comprehend; not with THINKING.

Nature evolves through a process of geometry that is always based on irrational numbers. The spiral vortex curve, the egg shape, the pentagon, the golden mean, the golden rectangle and triangle, Pi, which proves in itself that there is no circle,  all circles are spirals going inwards or outwards.

This observation of nature puts us in a realization that motion itself moves in spirals, our galaxies, water, smoke, air, fire, our planets through space, electrons, sub atomic particles,  plant growth, rivers, blood, sap. Life everywhere conforms to this irrational/infinite sequence and geometry.

This brings us to the same conclusion and the grave importance of Implosive and Explosive energy motion, and here at waternature.org we are attempting to educate society before it is too late for our specie and the earth. Victor Schauberger literally put natures two and two together and brought the irrational math of nature to light and invented technologies that work as nature does. The spiral of all things is either going inwards or outwards and the significance of this simple concept our science has failed to observe and understand. There are sub atomic physicists aware of this dichotomy and there are astronomers working on an energy that they presume (as Einstein also did) is heading back to the beginning of our galaxy/universe.

Waternature.org is working on inventions that Schauberger laid out the ground work for. We believe we have prove that can now show this ‘reverse energy’ as clear as the wind exists through the wounded trees in our yard.

What does this all mean to you, to us, to the planet? We are in an energy crisis to say the least. We are aware that many are now aware of this, but there is an understanding of nature that needs to be understood or we will continue to create technologies that move and transform energy in a motion/direction that is devastating to Nature. This again is what Viktor Schauberger discovered. All energy moves in spiral curves naturally, this is the motion of the universe, but what is of utmost importance is that LIFE utilizes predominately the process of inward motion to evolve in a healthy manner. This is a cool process for the most part and enhances the surrounding environment with unseen life giving energies that subatomic physicists are now just beginning to believe exists.

Where do we go from here? Well to be blunt, not many are listening. Waternature are entrepreneurs with little financial support. People are in the first stage of understanding the planets problem, which is that of denial. What do people do in denial? They hide their heads in the sand. The sand of entertainment; TV, Facebook,  music, Art on their prison walls, manicured lawns and faces, humour, SUV’s that need attention. They say this is all too depressing, give me some dance, sex, give me some more religion,  i’ll meditate everyday, science will take care of it all and if not I’ve got a saviour who has promised he’d show up when it gets apocalyptic…… and quite honestly, most just don’t give a damn, they just want money, personal comfort, security and god.

Well, of course, all is well in moderation and some are doing more or less than others, but believe it or not, this is one those problems that is just not going to fade away. It is not like the loss of a job, another war, a few kids; this warming our ‘fire technology’ has created through the wrong energy movement is possibly at a point of no return.

So many claim that they really do love there brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. That makes me wonder, “Is love just a smile on your face”. Is it really all that hollow?

Here are a few lines to express the leak in nature, the road to dark matter, the zero point, the irrationality of THOUGHT.

“Some times I think there are no words but these to tell what’s true, but there are no truths outside the gates of eden”.  Bob Dylan

“There is a crack in everything…………..that’s how the light comes in”. Leonard Cohen

Abstracts threat too noble too neglect, but I was so much older then, I’m younger then that now.” Dylan

“Let me take you down ’cause I’m going soon.
Where Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about.
Strawberry fields forever.” John Lennon

“Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks on you when you’re trying to be so quiet.
We sit here stranded though we’re all doin’ our best to de-nigh it.” Dylan

“The only thing that never changes is that we always do”. Wey

And Jesus answered: “Seek not the law in your scriptures, for the law is life, whereas the scripture is dead. I tell you truly, Moses received not his laws from God in writing, but through the living word. The law is living word of living God to living prophets for living men. In everything that is life is the law written. You find it in the grass, in the tree, in the river, in the mountain, in the birds of heaven, in the fishes of the sea; but seek it chiefly in yourselves. For I tell you truly, all living things are nearer to God than the scripture which is without life.(The Essene Gospel – the Missing scriptures, ‘I wonder why?’)

“Truth is a Pathless Land”. J. Krishnamurti


Your fake eyes and your fake lips
your fake styles and your fake hips

your fake likes and your fake friends
your fake feelings and your fake heavens
your fake gestures and your fake lies
your fake lows and your fake highs

you’re fake through and through and through
this hollyworld is made of you

your fake radio and your fake tv
your fake hellos and your fake catastrophes

your fake muscles and your fake bones
your fake lawns and your fake homes

your fake poems and your fake songs
your fake rights and your fake wrongs

you’re fake through and through and through
this hollyworld is made of you

your fake advertisements and your fake jeans
your fake politics and your fake schemes

your fake miracles and your fake gods
your fake heroes and your fake dogs

your fake thoughts and your fake memories
your fake talk and your fake dreams

your fake future and your fake food
your fake sympathy and your fake prayers too

you’re fake through and through and through
this hollyworld is made of you

your fake institutions and corporate pride
your fake holidays messing up the skies

your fake ceremonies and your fake systems
your fake moslems and your fake christians
your fake history and your fake hopes
your fake dope and your fake indians

your fake free trade and your world banks
your fake seeds and your fake genetics
your fake money and your fake reserves
your fake prisoners and your fake heretics

you’re fake through and through and through
this hollyworld is made of you

Love Now

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 to 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 the light

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 belief

walk in freedom, put thought in to its rightful place

a tool that can never be 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 is of 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


It was a Gray Day

Patrick Wey Art
It was a gray day, there was one cloud, like an old sheet clear across the sky. The thoughts were loose and easy as i pondered along the road. I remembered what you said before you passed away. I kept that safe and secret from anyones ears. It was true that that day did come my way and i felt betrayal enter from everyone i knew. I betrayed myself, i let myself down, sure i got back up, kept walking but i never forgot you lying there on that white hospital bed with enough pain to fill a universe and for that one moment when you suddenly reached over and grabbed my arm and pulled me close to your face. Then as if you were completely relaxed you said it. I have never forgotten that and why that came to me as i wandered past this scene, i don’t know……something in the air i suppose, could have been anything, i don’t know. All i know is i remembered you, that day, that moment, just before you let go and passed away to the other side. I think i’ll call this image, ‘A Secret in a Gray Day’.

Silver Light


Patrick Wey Art

It was a slim day of silver light shimmering across liquid skies

I was worried about frivolous issues drowning in my eyes

birds gliding over the edge sang their glorious tunes

i carried a few broken dreams shattered from the ruins


In the early light i felt your silver message, your praise, your constant drumming. I could imagine the haze in the gaze as i flew by your perfect thoughts; a few thousand years of visions entangled within your soul. I could feel your pain hidden behind your facebook charm and your sincere quest rotting against your plastic flesh. It was all there piercing my heart with this silver light.


then the day turned round, upside down, right side up

i could see the beauty and feel the pain

of you and i and the silver sky

the false prophets scattered across this new medium

the dreams, the hopes, the stupid lies

this wonderful day of silver skies

Blessings of Hard Times

the blessing of hard times

in the exposure of the composition of friends

the insight of superficial lies under synthetic skies

the absurdities of ancient ties

the uselessness of alibis

and the rare slim glimpse of beauty

from caring eyes

it’s all in a days work

in hard times

Death Come Walkin

death come walkin
death come walkin round here
it took my love and it took my fear
death come walkin
death come walkin round here

all the moments been shared
up here in gods country
all the trips in the hills
and the dreams along the land
none of this could have happened
to these hundreds of lifes
if it hadn’t been for that sparkle in their eye
that took my big sister away north ta here
with long dreams all around
some gone up hill and some gone down
but all in all life has its say
no matter who you are, no matter what way
when death comes walkin
when death comes walkin round here

life is sad and beautiful
and it’s true that sadness keeps us sane
and that sacred beauty
keeps love all about
and whatever god is, it keeps both
life flyin in and death keeps walkin out

so death come walkin
death come walkin round here
it took my love and it took my fear
death come walkin

death come walkin round here

Concepts Fainting


Concepts Fainting

i want to tell you about this self

i want to tell you what i see

i want to tell you what i do

what i am and how you’re in me

i want to tell you about what i know

and what i can’t believe

i want to tell you about the water

and the relationship to sacred geometry

the golden mean and euclidean dream

the silence and the fire inside the machine

i want to tell you what words can’t say

about the feelings that are you and me

about how there is nothing the same

that everything is similar and different

and how that changes everything

i want to tell you how much i hate you

but how much love i carry inside of you

i want to tell you everything i can

about your dreams and my dreams

and how they will all end

i want to tell you that all belief is make belief

that the truth is beyond all comprehension

how thought can not talk in the field of silence

i want to tell you all that but i can’t

i want to show you how to be

but i can only be myself

i want you to know what i know

and how you know it too

i want so much for us to be together

but we’re not and we can’t

it’s impossible with the characters we’ve created

it is that, that keeps us apart, separate in our identities

and it is just this uniqueness that torments us deep inside

but there is no love in memory

i want to tell you that you look so fine

that i wish you were mine

but in this tenderness i have to walk behind

i want you to know that i lie

but i don’t mean to and that i try

but it’s all in vain, there is no road to truth

there is no way out of here, no plan to love

i want to tell you a secret but i can’t

i want to stop wanting


i am watching now

it is so complete

everywhere i am, i am not

it is all so beautiful, we are perfect

there are no words on this train

we talk in silence

we walk together

we are of one

this is the dream but it is no dream

it is the reality we want in vain

but no wanting can get us there

so you and i are done

we and all are one

the dream is over

and if you open up your ears you’ll hear

that ultimately, nothing really matters

everything arises and then fades away


Eternity Swimming All Around

Water Everywhere

There’s water in the air

There’s water in the creek

There’s water in your day

There’s water where you sleep

There’s water everywhere


No matter what you feel, Or if you even care

It don’t matter whether your up or down

It don’t matter whether your right or wrong

There’s water everywhere


There’s water in your eyes

There’s water in your lies

There’s water in the truth

There’s water in your alibi’s

you can believe what ever you want

hold water for ransom too

but you will die of thirst eventually

if you try to


There’s water in your brain

There’s water in your memories

There’s water in the trees

There’s water in your knees

There’s water everywhere


when water flows free, it whirls and curls around

condenses,  speeds up, defies gravity

when water is confined, tortured and defined

and if you claim it’s ownership

it’ll kill you in time


no one knows what water knows

no life lives without it

no thought goes where water goes

that is all too sacred


any life issue is a water issue

water has no borders

it is all races, all spieces, all devils and gods

water knows no boundaries

water is you and water is me

we are one within water when we’re truly free


For water i am

For water i be

For water i live

For water i see

There’s water everywhere













































love is that way

2010-10-28 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

On the Banks

On the banks


Inside this stillness of a dark night

where chains of moments long ago

spread out across my dreams

with a spark of death, and

a touch of transition



Through my discontent

and reckless ruins

without warning

my love

trapped in its’  possession

stranded on the corner of your eye


On the misty shores of childlike tears

sun tangled in your fallen hair windswept

across your perfect face my love bent

over your dampened limbs

like a wet cloth


In the sea a part of me

became a part of you

the moon danced thru the waves

true in its light

from a distance

you could feel the storm

in the calm of your heart

at the shore the past


your window sill, your gaze

upon the garden

your answers

in a vase


by the door


From the hillside you could see the ocean


the turmoil of a sailor at sea,lost

you could feel the wind blow fierce

across the horizon

to some uncertain shore

you could touch the pain

a mirror to the soul

a love left upon the waters

a dream where weeds now grow




From this ledge of faceless form

thin silver night

this torn town of cracked homes

heart beating through broken bones

wind howling across my forehead

silent dreams emerging still

the essence, the kiss

the last dance upon the coast

words dying in a dusty diary

some unknown shore

where tears to water flow.