Tag Archives: magic

Thirty Seconds To Mars: 23 November 2014 – Cape Town

26 Nov

30 seconds to mars_23 nov (8)

 

Music is magic. It doesn’t matter where it is brought to life, it doesn’t matter who emits the notes, it doesn’t matter if it is for one or thousands. What matters is that it is done with passion and persuasion, confidence and conviction. Because it is then and only then that one can truly experience the freedom it brings. And with it the believe that anything is possible, no dream unattainable…

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Say it in 10: Always been here…

7 Oct

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What else can you do but think outside the box, push the boundaries, step outside the comfort zone, take a leap of faith… Because that’s where the magic happens.

In between it’s a fine balancing act, walking on a tight rope, all it takes is one false step to tumble into the abyss. Once you are on the other side though, the view is simply spectacular.

It’s hard, relentless, day in and day out, nights too. There’s no reprieve for body, mind or soul. Tired, stripped to the bone, hanging on, taking one more step. Surely the road to nowhere must end somewhere?

Then you round the corner and a gust of wind hits you between the shoulder blades and you are lifted and propelled forward and suddenly you are flying and you are thinking ‘Where did that come from?’

And then there’s a whisper from somewhere deep inside: “Pssst, always been here…”

 

©LIRYN DE JAGER

 

My notebook

2 Sep

 

??????????????????????????????? With an uninterrupted view of the Atlantic  Ocean, I ordered a glass of chardonnay  and a plate of grilled calamari. The sun  was shining; it was a crystal clear spring  day.

I took out my notebook and camera, laid  it beside the glass. I took a savoring sip,  picked up the camera, snapped a few  frames, opened the notebook.

The calamari arrived. I pushed the  notebook aside, squeezed fresh lemon  over the cubes, added some ground  pepper. I looked up; taking in my  surroundings, life was good.

One scoop of chocolate-mocha gelato hit the sweet spot.

A brief interruption as two ladies leaving paused at my table. Touching my shoulder, the one asked:

“Are you a writer?”

“Well yes, mam, I am.”

“I thought so,” she said, “have a nice day.” They left.

What was it? Was it the black notebook and the camera? Was it the gazing at the water, followed by scribble-scratch-scribble? What was it?

You believe it for the briefest of moments. Then you don’t. You know it’s a long shot. That’s where the magic happens.

 

©LIRYN DE JAGER