i've always wanted to fly. from above, i see myself life-size...insignificant. that feeling helps me to rid myself of what i've accumulated in the city. to not miss anything almost. if we observe from the sky, everything that humans do in the cities, running from one place to another, will seem absurd to anyone except ourselves. however, here in the mountains, everything makes sense on its own, at any distance, without anyone to see it. this is why, on seeing it from the skies, i can lose myself within the forest with no need for any explanation. each tree, each rock or each stream is self-explanatory. they compose a symphony to which i have nothing more to add.                                            -jose diaz, 100 days of solitude.

i wonder how the birds see us. absurd. we couldn't possibly explain ourselves to a bird, or a butterfly. and dogs look on befuddled, adoring, bemused.
when jose's tiny camera flies up, looking down on him i think of when i fly in dreams and my consciousness is split like that, split imaged, the little earth self small below, running in slow motion, while i grow invisible in the sky.
but we keep building, talking, talking to ourselves, to hear ourselves, adding to this cacaphony, to hear ourselves over this cacaphony.