The Story of Now

In the beginning, I was alone, but not lonely. Can being present by yourself in such a place be lonely?

My goal that day was to be a conduit, a curved line from nature, through myself, into my video camera.

The environment directed my moves, letting the poetry of the moment pull me along the shore, light pointing the way. The stream came toward me, but did not notice me. The ground felt my passing but did not remember.

I look for moments like these because it is what I do. In them, time is meaningless. Now and now and now is all there is, my camera, with its coursing electrons, coding the present like a footprint into the illusion of the past.

The random soundings of water over rocks, through air, between leaves are vibrations flowing into my camera’s ears. Light curves into my lens like measured waves on a long beach.

I am one with all, a singularity with evidence of my journey, editing reality through conceited choices, riding a circle of white noise at the razor's edge of now.

In the end, these framed impressions mark the trail ahead and show the way back along the illusory path called The Story of Now.

Billy Radd
Asheville