Architecture of Cities: Birds of Prey, Birds of a Feather

My eyes torn: Ruptured celluloid sprockets play before my mind’s eyes like a repeating life in retreat:

Decades of days before are no longer mine: My mind is reduced to the days no longer mine and a mere few days ahead:

To come:

It is a remarkable reckoning when you realize the embers of generations before are fading:

I unwittingly rewind the adventures had: Adventures not had may become adventures to be:

My mind’s eyes have guided me through stories not told and blindnesses not yet near:

I have seen the summation of my camera’s life: I have seen what the natural days, natural life has left behind me: What might be ahead: A dream in rewind: I imagine maybe be before there are no more:

Every single day has become a deciphering reckoning with a quantum variable of truths:

I have glimpsed into not merely the minds of others: I have glimpsed into the narratives of decades of an entire framed collective: Simply asserted, it is the the mind’s of others that I seek: Remarkably, my imaginations fantasias appear to fleeting:

I imagined two birds enjoined by one feather: I imagined two birds from that feather caressing and challenging: Rainbows like feathers of many birds mingled: Under the guise of cloud cover a kaleidoscope of photography’s adventurous prisms come to life: I breathe hesitantly: I might die if everything above disappeared:

Everyday my camera life is colored by people and places I had previously photographed: My eyes unbeknownst to me have captured millenniums in a variety of my every moment: All things natural are fantasies:

Making myself speed up with the times is like becoming an ever evolving dance partner fromEx Machina: An AI slow dance mingling among birds of a feather, birds of prey: Everything that I need: My eyes become:

Different times and unlikely days I once shared with Sir Norman Foster, Sir Richard Rogers: They were two old friends that shared what could be in this twentieth-twenty-first century: They designed according to dreams none others had conceived of: Their mark on time past, present and future are immediately with us: Their minds are the ones I met almost three decades past:

They temporarily became my camera’s “birds of a feather”and “birds of prey”: Early on my guess is that they were enjoined at the hip as they made headway forward: My guess is that as birds of prey in pursuit of more their heads challenged for commissions and possibly butted heads:

They became a cornerstone among others of how I see my days past and ahead: My camera does not live in any particular reality: My cameras’ see something that those  two birds above may appreciate: An F-stop that may freeze in time all of my architects: Maybe in particular the two birds above ( Foster and Rogers) contributed most ably to how I see: How I learned to see:

I have known the names of famed: Sometime ago I considered what it may be like to know the minds of those: Sometime ago I considered what my camera needed to see before I can no longer see:

Time took care of all of my inquiries and considerations: Time of course can massage most  misguided concerns: Maybe it is true that I am merely a page in a book somewhere:Brewer’s Dictionary, “Fables of History and Myth” seems most apt:

It is the aperture left wide open that embodies all of my stories, all of my dreams: Old ones in the past new ones ahead: Camera settings F/1 or F/1.2 appear to be most sufficient for my mind to process the decades that are behind me and the few er days ahead: The open aperture and wide  open glass greet every nuance of every day in the most welcoming fashion: An entire universe passes by ready to be seen and captured; my mind allows for all of the light that will become: