The Sun as a Dervish

Connection

As I follow the sun, I walk, holding the camera in my hand until it tingles.
I drift deeply in my imagination, and I awaken only when I see something worth seeing.
This is who I am every time I hold the camera in my hands; I let it lead me toward what I usually do not notice.

The Dervish Appears

That day, I whispered to myself: “The sun does not rise merely to give light, but to walk among us.” And this was before I captured it as a dervish spinning in the presence of the day.

After an hour of following, I whispered to myself as if I had just discovered love:
This is me… this is me.
A wandering dervish, spinning, dancing, following the sun.

A wandering dervish,
spinning, dancing,
following the sun.

Monologue

I am like a dervish too; I spin through the streets as a Sufi spins in the presence of love:
I let my eyes walk ahead of me and I follow them.

It spins around itself to see the light, I see the light to spin around myself.

A big difference! Yet our path is the same…
With each turn, my shape changes as its form changes:
A bird, so I borrow its wings,
An index finger, so I can pray,
A bell, so I remember the Virgin.
A distant chime, like a bell made of light.
All these faces, many, yet one path.

A big difference! Yet our path is the same…

Intentional Absence

And with the sunset, when the sun disappears, its glow vanishes, but everything continues to spin.
The dervish refuses to stand still in the path, and I follow him, as if I am following myself…
Follow me, not to find answers, but to travel the journey.

I close the lens cap as if I am closing a small prayer book.
I count my years by sunlight, not by city calendars.
I laugh when the questions crowd around me, and I photograph when I dare to listen to them.