Tag Archives: people

With his left hand he pushes the wheel forward, at the same time stepping hard with his left leg on the ground. The wheelchair tends to move not forward but slightly to the left, so he constantly needs to readjust the direction. I cannot see his face, but his hair is long and greyish white. Yellow sweater.

It’s taking a painfully long amount of time for him to cross the narrow street; it seemed the wheelchair almost went opposite direction to what he was trying to achieve.

At last, he reached the sidewalk. With the slight hill. As a passerby, you wouldn’t even notice the incline, but for him that must have been a challenge. I thought I should probably cross the street and help him. While I was contemplating – and no, it didn’t last longer then 10 seconds which seemed like few minutes to me – he managed to overcome the incline and continue crawl along the sidewalk.  I could see his right leg, or whatever was left of it, trembling (or did I imagine it?), I could sense the whole body going tense. I could almost hear that desperation and determination at the same time. I cannot really explain my vision of this, but mostly it was brought by memories of my tortures during walking (or trying to) when I had my own health issues. And not a single passerby offered help: not blaming, as I looked more like a drunkard or stoner rather than young woman struck by chronic horrific pain. Would I be grateful to a stranger offering me help on my way when I couldn’t stand up or was simply stuck? At first yes, of course, but at second thought I would feel really depressed thinking that I did not have ability to go on anymore, to do it on my own. And I think mainly why I survived those couple years was that I knew I could do it on my own, that I was strong enough. So looking at that man with his right side paralyzed, I kept thinking that he would manage it on his own. That he must and that he will. I almost started to send him vibes “go on, don’t stop, you can do it.” I was ready to run and help if something went wrong but I knew that he’d make it.

This was very emotional for me to watch – and not only because I could relate to this man in his helplessness and yet determination to go on. The wheelchair he used was a manual one, as you already could guess. The manual one with two handlers on the top. It is meant to be pushed by somebody else, helping him to go over this hill and many others, too. They just looked so empty. Too empty.

In a sense, we all have these handlers behind us, and sometimes (or most of the times) they might seem empty. Should we rush to take them and push each other? I believe we like when we do it on our own, but when we cannot we appreciate when somebody is nearby ready to help us..

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The Maze of Emotions

Originally, it is a huge retro TV screen frame with control buttons on the sides, on plain greyish wall. There is nothing nearby, it is empty wall of the rough several stories building bordering wasteland.

Dead End

Once I saw it, I immediately had few ideas about how I would play with the image, but the result actually came very spontaneously out of my hand. I came up with different versions of image, but this one is so far my favourite.

This is my Imagery of my self discovery. This is an Imagery of tense and confusing relationship of two “persons” inside me, call it Me and my Intuition, or Me and Inner Voice, or Me Rational and Me Emotional, or Me and Self. We dig ourselves quite deeply, but not always we discover desired results at the bottom. It could be emptiness, it could be mirror with mutilated reflection. It could be Dead End.

This is my Imagery of the labyrinth of the consciousness. The maze with Dead End, or sometimes the infinite maze. Sometimes, in order to move on, to go further, we have only one obstacle. And that obstacle is us, ourselves.

This was my Vision of dragging and exhausting relationship between two people. Each person could not put aside his own ego to preserve the relations. Each was not willing to compromise and was not willing to create exit for the maze of emotions. Sometimes it is easier to wander around and around, dragging confusion and irritation along, rather then break the wall and exit the labyrinth. For every labyrinth conceals hopefulness, because every time you are on the edge of breaking out, you feel the slight bittersweet taste of hope that the next turn will open the door for you.

This was my Vision of the person who was at the same time the closest-to and furthest-from me then everybody else in the world. This person had locked himself inside under hundreds of locks, carefully building up false masks. You open door after door, and with every open new door you see different false mask of him. I guess this is sort of self defence that many of us build. 

But be careful, with all pyramid of masks and layers you can loose and forget true yourself.

Ironically, this is the one and only photograph of that person. Maybe that is for better I do not have picture of his face and it gradually faded away in my mind. Maybe after a while I will remember that story as the Tale of my Imagery.