today i had planned to type random thoughts. i seem to have so many, i figured ‘why not publish them..?’ ‘it’ll be an experiment…’
and so, i sit and i type. the words find their way to my fingertips and fall, letter by letter, onto this blank page.
the beep of a finished laundry cycle breaks my thought.
these days, it doesn’t take much to distract. sometimes i wonder if i am driven by distraction. i am always looking at the world around me like i am shooting a movie, or taking stills. as a photographer, by profession, it is my life. literally.
and, last night i cut my hair. again. lopped it off, like a mad woman, with a pair of nail scissors. maybe i am a mad woman. but it is only hair. it will grow again. anyway, i think it looks pretty. a little like i’ve chewed it off but pretty nonetheless.
so, as i was saying, i had planned to sit and type my thoughts; share my unique world with the curious, the mad, and the loyal
[or anyone who gives a shit…]
but the moment i sit with my eager fingers poised, i begin to think too much and it defeats the purpose of this exercise. this experiment in spontaneity. it no longer feels random or spontaneous. it feels premeditated, almost coerced.
[even downright fucking ridiculous…]
[ok. just try again, Kat. simply, close your eyes and type…]
i am standing on a shore, with my old Teddy bear in my left hand. he is older than God. he is blind, yet wise. me? i am neither. but i am barefoot. it is December. the sand is cold and wet beneath my feet and the tide runs in, underfoot. it tickles. i stand still. mesmerised by the sensations, and lured by the horizon. the cold water tingles as the receding waters sucks at my soles. i can feel the sand prickle. and so, i walk into the water. waves, in their relentless stoicism, show forbearance at my being there. they cut cold. they patiently lap and lop around me. my legs feel heavy. i wander further into the water. i stand still, engulfed by the cold and salty water. my dress is wet and begins to float up and flap around me. an encumbrance. i do not need this. i take it off and launch it back onto the shore behind me. goosebumps. i stand still, naked in the water. i feel humbled. i can feel the sea cradle me. is she encouraging me to come into her depths and learn her secrets, or is it true? is she merely humouring me… lulling me into a false sense of security? will she take me? where will she take me?
if i give into her, will she give me back?
i take a deep breath and throw myself beneath the waves. and now i am weightless. unburdened. i hold my breath and count to 200. my eyes are open. i stare into Teddy’s sewn-shut eyes. the silence is deafening. the water is silken and heavy against my form. i think about my wonderful childhood. i look around. the murky water holds terrible secrets, that’s for sure. i will just be one other. 1 0 9, and my lungs feel like they are being crushed. oh the sea, she is a cruel mistress. how many lives have you taken, my love? i breath you in, deep, seduced by your mystery and unfathomable depth, and
feel you rip and burn
inside my lungs. each gasp feels like fire. i never knew cold water could burn so…
i cling to old Teddy. his soft, yielding body feels comforting, like an anchor amid the thrashing. it is violent. but… wait… 1 6 1 and all is calm. all is strangely tranquil and beautiful. i feel at one with the sea. the serenity moves me. i weep… i give my tears back to the sky… i look at my hands, at old Teddy, and let him go… i watch, as he slowly surfaces… disappearing from me.
like light itself,
like life itself.
[i drowned instead…]
Images & words, spontaneously given and under the copyright of:
Kat McDonald, Kat McDonald Photography 2015