Playing in chaos: real sporting life

When there are a lot of things to be arranged, the day may seem to fall apart into chaos. That could start with bad dreams, a lack of clear priorities when awake, accidentally burning your tongue while drinking your tea too hastily without any reason. Then you put on some clothes over your pyjamas and find out that you missed sunrise, even in the neighbourhood park.

But luckily there is some old bread in your pocket so the geese, ducks, coots, doves and gulls can get a little breakfast. You try a Blip - or ten -, but of course totally in vain and you knew it. To rescue some order and decency, you decide to go to the voting bureau to bring out your election vote. And on your way it remains unclear who or what party will have your support.

Eventually you remember just in time that this isn’t really the first time that you are this early morning voter who is still doubting. And - again - lucky man - you find your voting pass and ID in your pocket, so your presence before the ballot committee will meet no further objections. And suddenly in a lucid interval you remember that voting according to the voice of your old green heart - even if they will lose for the hundredth time - will change nothing but give a good old feeling down there. You sigh and feel a bit releaved.

Back home some serious paperwork is waiting for you to sweat out the right formula and conclusion: please, some espresso must clear up the blurring of thoughts, sentences and word choices. Outside the sun is shining, the wind is blowing, and you sit at the working table, far from zenny, mindless, with swollen eyes and that sticky pyjama under a thick woollen pullover, pfff.

You try to finish your tightened concept, first in vain and finally - after uploading it to an email for the fifth time still that old unchanged concept of yesterday, you write “sorry” in the next email, and sigh, sigh and sigh again. What are you doing, and why in this dombo-dummy way? Is this being caught red-handed, while bluffing your so called “little philosophers way” through Blipland?

Oh surely yes, I will confess anything, as long as I haven’t finished this Journal. I even hadn’t a photo. Until I fled to the stormy beach to say goodbye for the weeks to come. And there I got rattled by the cold southwestern. Sand blew everywhere. It became high tide. All the chaos of the day blown away. I was in the midst of it. Laughing I shouted: we are the chaos…Youghey!

And the surfers who where sailing, jumping, falling, banging the waves. And after jumping they were flying, and falling back, speeding and loosing control, Yippo! Splash. And I was dancing in the cold, with trembling hands I shot nearly two hundred pictures...Here is the one and only, showing and expressing how you can play through chaos: real sporting life.