Outside lookin in (e)

Here I have a personal journey of a few days out walking the new member of my family the dog. 

As I set out walking the dog I went through gates, fields and adventures.  I couldn't help but ask myself what does a closed gate mean, and more so what does a closed gate represent? 

Is it a solid no go area or does it mean taking a step into the unknown? I couldn't help but want to take pictures of these gates, some closed to begin with! Closed gates upon closed gates, but as I walked more and my own anxieties of everyday life faded, I was beginning to notice the open path ways and moors that were presenting themselves. trusting in the unknown and following the route I let myself walk into the path or walkways that were already marked out. 

Art and design - well what is the point of going to a place or finding a place that has already been done. I had wanted to learn how to create or draw/make works that had been done but in doing so I've always came up surprised and enlighten but empty. 

It was in doing this unknown that I could relate to my own questions of what will become of me, where with I find myself?

The following poem only came after these walks but the connection I feel now reading this gives me a greater sense of understanding. I feel hopeful and in some ways empowered 

As I wandered lonely as a cloud by william wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host, of golden daffodils; 

Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous as the stars that shine 

And twinkle on the milky way, 

They stretched in never-ending line 

Along the margin of a bay: 

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 

The waves beside them danced; but they 

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: 

A poet could not but be gay, 

In such a jocund company: 

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought 

What wealth the show to me had brought: 

For oft, when on my couch I lie 

In vacant or in pensive mood, 

They flash upon that inward eye 

Which is the bliss of solitude; 

And then my heart with pleasure fills, 

And dances with the daffodils. 

Isn't connection wonderful. without being there in the poem your mind can see, touch and imagine the scene.  

Not knowing where the path will lead is a daunting prospect but sometimes what do you have to lose, faith alone guiding you.

Im grateful for having this opportunity to have these moments, to fill my world and mind with such memories. While I may not be able to write like Wordsworth or draw a scene like the greats. For me the dancing euphoria I felt at the little things I witnessed can only have me wonder what the artists or poets of the the past that I look up to had felt, in they time of unknown or present being.