Showing posts with label United States. Show all posts
Showing posts with label United States. Show all posts
click on the individual link below to view details
 |
| Our journey by countries |
 |
Our journey with full details. (country, city, hostel, transportation, cost)
|
click on the individual link below to view details
|
| Our journey by countries |
|
Our journey with full details. (country, city, hostel, transportation, cost)
|
changing leaves
fire up a mantis
a jigsaw in motion
high tech vividness
sensor overload
I am in, I am out
I am in a zone
shanti
a jigsaw in motion
conflict in beauty
a mantis is praying
to be free in the unfree
let go, each thought just go
one, two, three, four, five shots
I heard
a jigsaw in silence
I close my eyes
echo of my soul
is the jigsaw they saw
Prie Dieu from Cokau on Vimeo.
fire up a mantis
a jigsaw in motion
high tech vividness
sensor overload
I am in, I am out
I am in a zone
shanti
a jigsaw in motion
conflict in beauty
a mantis is praying
to be free in the unfree
let go, each thought just go
one, two, three, four, five shots
I heard
a jigsaw in silence
I close my eyes
echo of my soul
is the jigsaw they saw
Prie Dieu from Cokau on Vimeo.
changing leaves
fire up a mantis
a jigsaw in motion
high tech vividness
sensor overload
I am in, I am out
I am in a zone
shanti
a jigsaw in motion
conflict in beauty
a mantis is praying
to be free in the unfree
let go, each thought just go
one, two, three, four, five shots
I heard
a jigsaw in silence
I close my eyes
echo of my soul
is the jigsaw they saw
Prie Dieu from Cokau on Vimeo.
fire up a mantis
a jigsaw in motion
high tech vividness
sensor overload
I am in, I am out
I am in a zone
shanti
a jigsaw in motion
conflict in beauty
a mantis is praying
to be free in the unfree
let go, each thought just go
one, two, three, four, five shots
I heard
a jigsaw in silence
I close my eyes
echo of my soul
is the jigsaw they saw
Prie Dieu from Cokau on Vimeo.
-->
I stepped into the same elevator that I was so happily running away from just 2.5 years ago. I never looked back, but now I am back. The smell of morning coffee filled in the lobby, while eager workers lined up for a days job. It’s 9:30 am, early, too early for me, I barely saw a thing as I recently noticed my eyesight diminishing as I age, but that’s a different story.
— Fifth floor please.
The elevator doors opened and I was greeted by a new receptionist. — Hi, I am here for a freelance gig. — I smiled. I quickly filled out some paperwork, and it all started coming back to me. The place hasn’t changed, the iconic orange couches, the weekly new bouquet of display flowers, the sound of stomping heavy heels on the wooden floor, the maniac fast frantic typing sounds, the early morning meeting client speakerphone, and the daily gossip chatter has not been touch since I left. It all remain the same, the movement of the money wheel was still in motion, just a digital motion.
— OMG, look at you, what are you doing back here? Are you finally done with your travels? Where have you gone? What was your favorite place? So good to see you— All comments and small talks with some of the survivors from Cement Bloc crisis, whom I worked with before.
In the past 2.5 years I have visited 33 countries and slept in 209 different beds, every day was a different story, an active story. Coming back to the Bloc, seeing some of the same people working on the same stories made me feel like i have never left.
— Was it a dream? Was I really there, did all that really happened?
The feeling was strange, so much happened yet I felt like I have been gone for a week. I opened InDesign, (Adobe’s program used for designing layouts). I got my first project and the ball was rolling. Unconsciously I picked up speed, using all the shortcuts and tricks that help to increase workflow. I zoned out into the monitor, falling back into the seat, I found myself in a comfy place. I was excited, I was eager, I was happy to be back at work. I was also shocked to realized how quickly I was able to jump right back in. It was the first time in 2.5 years that I have opened the program, and my creative mind.
– File, New Document.— Is what I thought it would be like coming back to work, but instead I’ve opened and entered a project I’ve worked on before.
Linda, my supervisor, and a friend said — Hey, you wanna come and freelance for a bit, make some money and continue to India?— It was all a maybe, that became a definite. They were busy super busy, so I got booked for three days that turned into thew weeks.
2.5 years ago, when I left I was on a quest to explore the world and see things with my own eyes. I ran, I ran far away from the corporate environment.
— I am so glad that I don’t have to sit in front of the computer— Is what I used to always repeat to Iza. The challenge of creating a new campaign, a new layout of a brochures or designing a new identity is super rewarding, yet the challenge of sitting in front of a computer all day long is a nightmare on fat. But is a reality of making good money. People who make the most don’t do the most. No movement, just brain power.
Is, alright, I am only freelancing, I keep telling myself. Great. A bit of money, a bit of work won’t hurt nobody.
and then,
— Aga, can you commit to work with us for another 6 weeks? The drug got indicated sooner than we thought. We need your speed.— Asked the creative director.
— Sure.
Slowly, I am being sucked in.
— Fifth floor please.
The elevator doors opened and I was greeted by a new receptionist. — Hi, I am here for a freelance gig. — I smiled. I quickly filled out some paperwork, and it all started coming back to me. The place hasn’t changed, the iconic orange couches, the weekly new bouquet of display flowers, the sound of stomping heavy heels on the wooden floor, the maniac fast frantic typing sounds, the early morning meeting client speakerphone, and the daily gossip chatter has not been touch since I left. It all remain the same, the movement of the money wheel was still in motion, just a digital motion.
— OMG, look at you, what are you doing back here? Are you finally done with your travels? Where have you gone? What was your favorite place? So good to see you— All comments and small talks with some of the survivors from Cement Bloc crisis, whom I worked with before.
In the past 2.5 years I have visited 33 countries and slept in 209 different beds, every day was a different story, an active story. Coming back to the Bloc, seeing some of the same people working on the same stories made me feel like i have never left.
— Was it a dream? Was I really there, did all that really happened?
The feeling was strange, so much happened yet I felt like I have been gone for a week. I opened InDesign, (Adobe’s program used for designing layouts). I got my first project and the ball was rolling. Unconsciously I picked up speed, using all the shortcuts and tricks that help to increase workflow. I zoned out into the monitor, falling back into the seat, I found myself in a comfy place. I was excited, I was eager, I was happy to be back at work. I was also shocked to realized how quickly I was able to jump right back in. It was the first time in 2.5 years that I have opened the program, and my creative mind.
– File, New Document.— Is what I thought it would be like coming back to work, but instead I’ve opened and entered a project I’ve worked on before.
Linda, my supervisor, and a friend said — Hey, you wanna come and freelance for a bit, make some money and continue to India?— It was all a maybe, that became a definite. They were busy super busy, so I got booked for three days that turned into thew weeks.
2.5 years ago, when I left I was on a quest to explore the world and see things with my own eyes. I ran, I ran far away from the corporate environment.
— I am so glad that I don’t have to sit in front of the computer— Is what I used to always repeat to Iza. The challenge of creating a new campaign, a new layout of a brochures or designing a new identity is super rewarding, yet the challenge of sitting in front of a computer all day long is a nightmare on fat. But is a reality of making good money. People who make the most don’t do the most. No movement, just brain power.
Is, alright, I am only freelancing, I keep telling myself. Great. A bit of money, a bit of work won’t hurt nobody.
and then,
— Aga, can you commit to work with us for another 6 weeks? The drug got indicated sooner than we thought. We need your speed.— Asked the creative director.
— Sure.
Slowly, I am being sucked in.
-->
I stepped into the same elevator that I was so happily running away from just 2.5 years ago. I never looked back, but now I am back. The smell of morning coffee filled in the lobby, while eager workers lined up for a days job. It’s 9:30 am, early, too early for me, I barely saw a thing as I recently noticed my eyesight diminishing as I age, but that’s a different story.
— Fifth floor please.
The elevator doors opened and I was greeted by a new receptionist. — Hi, I am here for a freelance gig. — I smiled. I quickly filled out some paperwork, and it all started coming back to me. The place hasn’t changed, the iconic orange couches, the weekly new bouquet of display flowers, the sound of stomping heavy heels on the wooden floor, the maniac fast frantic typing sounds, the early morning meeting client speakerphone, and the daily gossip chatter has not been touch since I left. It all remain the same, the movement of the money wheel was still in motion, just a digital motion.
— OMG, look at you, what are you doing back here? Are you finally done with your travels? Where have you gone? What was your favorite place? So good to see you— All comments and small talks with some of the survivors from Cement Bloc crisis, whom I worked with before.
In the past 2.5 years I have visited 33 countries and slept in 209 different beds, every day was a different story, an active story. Coming back to the Bloc, seeing some of the same people working on the same stories made me feel like i have never left.
— Was it a dream? Was I really there, did all that really happened?
The feeling was strange, so much happened yet I felt like I have been gone for a week. I opened InDesign, (Adobe’s program used for designing layouts). I got my first project and the ball was rolling. Unconsciously I picked up speed, using all the shortcuts and tricks that help to increase workflow. I zoned out into the monitor, falling back into the seat, I found myself in a comfy place. I was excited, I was eager, I was happy to be back at work. I was also shocked to realized how quickly I was able to jump right back in. It was the first time in 2.5 years that I have opened the program, and my creative mind.
– File, New Document.— Is what I thought it would be like coming back to work, but instead I’ve opened and entered a project I’ve worked on before.
Linda, my supervisor, and a friend said — Hey, you wanna come and freelance for a bit, make some money and continue to India?— It was all a maybe, that became a definite. They were busy super busy, so I got booked for three days that turned into thew weeks.
2.5 years ago, when I left I was on a quest to explore the world and see things with my own eyes. I ran, I ran far away from the corporate environment.
— I am so glad that I don’t have to sit in front of the computer— Is what I used to always repeat to Iza. The challenge of creating a new campaign, a new layout of a brochures or designing a new identity is super rewarding, yet the challenge of sitting in front of a computer all day long is a nightmare on fat. But is a reality of making good money. People who make the most don’t do the most. No movement, just brain power.
Is, alright, I am only freelancing, I keep telling myself. Great. A bit of money, a bit of work won’t hurt nobody.
and then,
— Aga, can you commit to work with us for another 6 weeks? The drug got indicated sooner than we thought. We need your speed.— Asked the creative director.
— Sure.
Slowly, I am being sucked in.
— Fifth floor please.
The elevator doors opened and I was greeted by a new receptionist. — Hi, I am here for a freelance gig. — I smiled. I quickly filled out some paperwork, and it all started coming back to me. The place hasn’t changed, the iconic orange couches, the weekly new bouquet of display flowers, the sound of stomping heavy heels on the wooden floor, the maniac fast frantic typing sounds, the early morning meeting client speakerphone, and the daily gossip chatter has not been touch since I left. It all remain the same, the movement of the money wheel was still in motion, just a digital motion.
— OMG, look at you, what are you doing back here? Are you finally done with your travels? Where have you gone? What was your favorite place? So good to see you— All comments and small talks with some of the survivors from Cement Bloc crisis, whom I worked with before.
In the past 2.5 years I have visited 33 countries and slept in 209 different beds, every day was a different story, an active story. Coming back to the Bloc, seeing some of the same people working on the same stories made me feel like i have never left.
— Was it a dream? Was I really there, did all that really happened?
The feeling was strange, so much happened yet I felt like I have been gone for a week. I opened InDesign, (Adobe’s program used for designing layouts). I got my first project and the ball was rolling. Unconsciously I picked up speed, using all the shortcuts and tricks that help to increase workflow. I zoned out into the monitor, falling back into the seat, I found myself in a comfy place. I was excited, I was eager, I was happy to be back at work. I was also shocked to realized how quickly I was able to jump right back in. It was the first time in 2.5 years that I have opened the program, and my creative mind.
– File, New Document.— Is what I thought it would be like coming back to work, but instead I’ve opened and entered a project I’ve worked on before.
Linda, my supervisor, and a friend said — Hey, you wanna come and freelance for a bit, make some money and continue to India?— It was all a maybe, that became a definite. They were busy super busy, so I got booked for three days that turned into thew weeks.
2.5 years ago, when I left I was on a quest to explore the world and see things with my own eyes. I ran, I ran far away from the corporate environment.
— I am so glad that I don’t have to sit in front of the computer— Is what I used to always repeat to Iza. The challenge of creating a new campaign, a new layout of a brochures or designing a new identity is super rewarding, yet the challenge of sitting in front of a computer all day long is a nightmare on fat. But is a reality of making good money. People who make the most don’t do the most. No movement, just brain power.
Is, alright, I am only freelancing, I keep telling myself. Great. A bit of money, a bit of work won’t hurt nobody.
and then,
— Aga, can you commit to work with us for another 6 weeks? The drug got indicated sooner than we thought. We need your speed.— Asked the creative director.
— Sure.
Slowly, I am being sucked in.
Amazingly spent time with the Polish American Folk Company. These guys have the heart and spirit to bring out the best folk dancing in NYC. I had a blast being part of this cheerfulness. Enjoy their show...
Amazingly spent time with the Polish American Folk Company. These guys have the heart and spirit to bring out the best folk dancing in NYC. I had a blast being part of this cheerfulness. Enjoy their show...
The smell of CK One perfume came around as a Hispanic man sat right next to me on the “J” train. — Ah, I know this smell, if smells can only tell a story, it sure ignited a familiar feeling. I can’t help but to stare, everybody is looking down, they are all tuned into they own world, headphones are in, the bopping of the head is on. Am I the only white person on this train? The Afro-Americans, how I have not had much recent contact with the black folks, they don’t travel much, it’s new so I stare with curiosity.
I think this lady is Mexican — I am guessing each feature to its culture. Been all around the world, individually taking in all the cultures only to come back to NYC and realizing that they are all here, they were always here, yet now I am more conscious of my surroundings.
I landed in one of the most energy created metropolitan in the world, New York City. It has a fast hidden paste that I noticed once I stopped and observed as the daily energy is created by moving yellow taxis, rushing people and the humming pump of the city’s heart. If we can only store and reuse this metropolitan collection of elevated vibrations for future use, perhaps we can avoid gas hikes. The heat, the contrast the uniqueness gets all mixed up and it creates unity of one powerful movement. I am back into it.
I love New York City. The people are truly beautiful, the architecture, the culture, and the freedom to be who you are. The chubby, the skinny, the pretty and the freaky all found in one aisle. I missed this place, and I am glad to be strolling on back, it seems all new to me. A different perspective, a bird’s eye view from the ground, from my old stomping ground.
Sushi! Is what I craved the most, first meal of the day and last. I can’t get enough; it is its energy that is feeding me back to reality of what I am really doing here. I love it, yet I have mix emotions. — Why did I come back? What am I really doing here? Is this really where I belong? I don’t want to be here. Surely, it’s awesome here, oh how I missed this place. What’s next?
My friends and family? So good to see them all, no one has changed, did I change? I notice more negativity, why are they complaining so much? The fear of living is present, the fear by media, money and accomplishments all plays in the conversations. Perhaps it was always like that, self-conscious of what others think, what is the right way to live. The white picket fence fantasy has seemed to never leave; “the ideal way” is what people seem to think.
With all my travels with all my recent experiences I can’t help but to think that I feel a bit free. Freedom Tower it's a bit more higher. I no longer feel attached to the materialistic world of the better gadget. I let go of what society thinks who I should really be, I am free from the acceleration, I no longer feel the joy of bling bling shinning car’s 5thgear. Like in meditation I acknowledge the thought, the situation and I don’t linger, I move on because I want to be free from all that people might formulate one should be.
So I will keep moving, with every step I see different, with every inhalation I take in the new and I exhale the unwanted while striving for what I want.
What is it that I now really want? I am confused. But I think what I want is what I have; the present is where I am at. No plans, no obligations just me myself and I, on the streets of NY.
The smell of CK One perfume came around as a Hispanic man sat right next to me on the “J” train. — Ah, I know this smell, if smells can only tell a story, it sure ignited a familiar feeling. I can’t help but to stare, everybody is looking down, they are all tuned into they own world, headphones are in, the bopping of the head is on. Am I the only white person on this train? The Afro-Americans, how I have not had much recent contact with the black folks, they don’t travel much, it’s new so I stare with curiosity.
I think this lady is Mexican — I am guessing each feature to its culture. Been all around the world, individually taking in all the cultures only to come back to NYC and realizing that they are all here, they were always here, yet now I am more conscious of my surroundings.
I landed in one of the most energy created metropolitan in the world, New York City. It has a fast hidden paste that I noticed once I stopped and observed as the daily energy is created by moving yellow taxis, rushing people and the humming pump of the city’s heart. If we can only store and reuse this metropolitan collection of elevated vibrations for future use, perhaps we can avoid gas hikes. The heat, the contrast the uniqueness gets all mixed up and it creates unity of one powerful movement. I am back into it.
I love New York City. The people are truly beautiful, the architecture, the culture, and the freedom to be who you are. The chubby, the skinny, the pretty and the freaky all found in one aisle. I missed this place, and I am glad to be strolling on back, it seems all new to me. A different perspective, a bird’s eye view from the ground, from my old stomping ground.
Sushi! Is what I craved the most, first meal of the day and last. I can’t get enough; it is its energy that is feeding me back to reality of what I am really doing here. I love it, yet I have mix emotions. — Why did I come back? What am I really doing here? Is this really where I belong? I don’t want to be here. Surely, it’s awesome here, oh how I missed this place. What’s next?
My friends and family? So good to see them all, no one has changed, did I change? I notice more negativity, why are they complaining so much? The fear of living is present, the fear by media, money and accomplishments all plays in the conversations. Perhaps it was always like that, self-conscious of what others think, what is the right way to live. The white picket fence fantasy has seemed to never leave; “the ideal way” is what people seem to think.
With all my travels with all my recent experiences I can’t help but to think that I feel a bit free. Freedom Tower it's a bit more higher. I no longer feel attached to the materialistic world of the better gadget. I let go of what society thinks who I should really be, I am free from the acceleration, I no longer feel the joy of bling bling shinning car’s 5thgear. Like in meditation I acknowledge the thought, the situation and I don’t linger, I move on because I want to be free from all that people might formulate one should be.
So I will keep moving, with every step I see different, with every inhalation I take in the new and I exhale the unwanted while striving for what I want.
What is it that I now really want? I am confused. But I think what I want is what I have; the present is where I am at. No plans, no obligations just me myself and I, on the streets of NY.