A deep chill has settled over the south, and with it tendrils of tension dissolve into the not-knowing. Dimensions of the inner landscape corrugate and flake off; rust to dust into other scarlet nothings. Every day you leave tiny traces of your presence behind. A footprint, dented duvet, crumbs at a solitary table. Curious thoughts train behind you from passers-by. The molten formula of change is always working its charms on us…
And so, so what? All the questioning, the habitual happenings, what is it revealing? Who is reflected in the blade we’re unsheathing? Pain is the lightest brush from the void and the intermission from the sidelines of the set of ourselves. In this vulgar, subtle hologram who are we discovering? Are we coming closer to knowing who we are?
Getting out of the head and into the body. Even if that only means animating fingertips to dance my thoughts out across this screen. Actualize, physicalize, materialize. Experiment with the calling of your curiosity. What wants to come through?
Death hurts. As facets of your identity fall away to reveal new, higher-def reality downloads, there is a mourning. For what was and no longer is. What a human experience, to watch the beauty bloom and change and leave the room. The mystery keeps on revealing herself through us.
Humble, and eager and tired, we allow ourselves to surrender to the flow.