Alastair T Aitken

From above the clouds through brilliant trees. From the darkest dark of the deep deep seas. First they came as murmur, but soon they will be. Those vibrant sounds that sift through thee…

Is all that I see 'real'? I read through my past. I see through my learning. I think through my language but, sometimes, I can 'imagine'... right in front of me

A waking man walking where? Like time waiting for no one, Sleepwalking from here to there. With eye contact and silence, Daring to dream, dreaming to dare...

It is sound which first wakes us from a coma. A human voice, or a musical bolt from a time distant, but inside. It is the first of the awakenings – the last of the senses to leave...

Words are like Angels visiting on the breeze, calling with a fervour from somewhere beyond the sea...