A love story

A Tibetian inspired art installation where you wishes get blown by the wind to all corners of the world

A good friend once asked me what I was looking for in this world and I couldn't say.
Now I know.
I am searching for what love means.
There was a time that as a child I did not recognise such a thing.
I thought love was like the sun, that I would be blinded by its intensity, that I could see it right before me, but when I went to lose myself to it, that it was too great of a thing for me to keep all to myself and that I could never receive it, even though I wanted it so badly.
Is love the touch of your mothers hand, trying to sooth your fevered body with cream after midnight has passed?
What would it be like if you receive love, but not recognise it, that your vision of it is too grandiose to be real?
Maybe it will slip away so easily in this lifetime, and you lived always dreaming of better things to come, yet miss it entirely and it is too late.
I have been loved, yet it was too faraway from what I defined it to be and so it could not break through the invisible barriers erected.
There is great suffering in wanting something that you don't think you have. You use your fertile mind and all your imagination to conjure up what it would be like. Living in this vision of perfection, you cannot tolerate the shortcomings of the world, and hope becomes such a fragile thing, like the delicate beauty of a butterflies wings.

Here is my thoughts on love so far...
Love is being able to care for what happens to those around you, to hope for their dreams more than the primal need of self satisfaction. For me it is such a hard task, a challenge that is constantly fought and lost. What hope do I have? I guess to be aware of it is a big step, and not be lost in the busyness of to do lists and demands of a 24 hour world. Spending some time apart from doing, enough to contemplate the thoughts behind my actions, and to maintain such a thing over time. I have made my definition too big, too great that I cannot express it to people.

It then gets lost into ether, only exists for the briefest of time in my mind, where is trapped, yearning to be free and not die, hoping to get out and come alive and be real, so than it could spread itself and touch other worlds.

I pray for the hopes and dreams of those around me, that in time these thoughts will change me to be less selfish, and it will make a small difference in their lives, so that they can be renewed and keep going.

I left Australia as it seemed to me that I was not challenged by the wind anymore, that to live in a life of comfort meant I wasn't alive anymore. That like the landscape, burnt and dry by the harsh Australian sun, we can find a thing of beauty in such harshness and ugliness in small glimpses.
To seek the unknown was what defined my restlessness. To grasp with difficulties, the pressure, so that I can come out and overcome my fears, or to even identify them.

From my childhood experience of being alive, was to be put the deep end of things, focusing on how to survive long enough so that I don't give in to my fears and doubts. However, over the passage of time, the fears and doubts have become more numerous, the anxieties materialising in the advent of desires, an ever growing ego, the thrust of time and bombardment of knowledge.
Leaving good friends behind, having to go into a room full of strangers and learning to catch up to their level and become integrated was my educational experience.
Living in this time, I still look at the past, see hints of some familiarity and am afraid of the pain that may come. That is the source of my sadness, that we go through life, encountering the best of people, the time being too short, wishing to prolong it as much as possible, but knowing that it will end too soon and that they will disappear from our lives. It is difficult for my to not try and relive the past joys, and hoping that I could relive them time and time again, but knowing it can never be the same.

my wish to the wind