A New Path the Old Way

Since when have I been fascinated with sorrow? Perhaps it is since I have learned to be alone. Contentment and longing intertwine in the self-sufficient solitude that makes me search for adventure, to roam the world and record the simple and yet sometimes unbelievable tales inherent in it.

Some periods have been accompanied by various beliefs of a mystical hue, but this is often led to dark paths and painful mistakes. I would like to think that I have learned from them. Religion, or a search for it, no longer plays any role in my life, but there is still a strong undercurrent of wanting something else... It is fed by the beautiful, the rhythmical and the musical. It is fueled by strong emotions and a feeling of danger. The search for the precious and rare treasures that can manifest themselves in the complexity of human thinking and the interactions between various minds, and the relics that they leave behind - this is what drives me to keep looking, and to record.

Of course there are strong elements of hedonism and egoism in this. I cannot say I am fascinated merely by the world - I want to feel my place in it. But having lost myself in all the places I have lived, this life may just be a search for my own place. This does not have to do with location, or the culture, or the company that is kept. Although these play an important role, the most essential ingredient is that which is filtered through by me. This necessity to pass things through my inner wold has existed since childhood, when I kept an illustrated diary. In a way, this is what I continue to do. But now the concentration has shifted from the personal to the greater world, although it too is part of mine,

The solitude I have felt at some points in life is now compensated by a strong desire to be immersed in the greater world. I want to be where the action is, and feel that I am close or a part of these events. I can observe with some experience and understanding the different happenings and strangeness of extreme situations. They are normal to me. Without the possibility of some unexpected and strange occurrence, life somehow does not seem real enough.

The idea of working as a foreign correspondent, of traveling somewhere new and doing something in the midst of events is something that is life-igniting. Maybe this is just a fantasy, but Brazil has cast a magic spell over me, despite my never having been there. But even from the island that is Britain, it is pulling me in by its strong and dangerous force...