i turned up the aisle with counterbalance of grocery baskets and indecision about toothpaste brands. i put my baskets down as you pushed a plush pluto into my hands which i figured you grabbed off a shelf. you told me you won it for me and pointed at those impossible machines, glass containers full of toys and mechanical claws. i was incredulous. and it was true! gosh dang – i i love you.
i am constituted of methods mistaken for madness by those who believe so strongly in ideas they have fixed to a chain in the backyard. we are not made up of thoughts of us. they can cuss you out to kingdom come. cursing’s what they made of. go and live your life. I am constituted of good will and fire in the belly for a creative compelling outcome, manufacturing something rare of high quality…
searching became seeking on an otherwise atypical weekend. seeking became leaking when the sought after was found and overflowed the fullness. leaking became luck when it just so happened the collection was rare and appreciated behind glass by the mass. luck became suck when the interactivity failed to give a deep felt sense of belonging both hoped for and needed. suck became destruction when the place got torn apart ina rage. destruction became relief when they all realized how connected they were by the rage. relief became regret when they witnessed the damage they done. they thought the collection ruined, and history would miss out completely. regret was not set in stone. regret was reformed by the mission. the mission was to get up every day and pray to get out there and then actually get out there. be helpful some way to someone in need. the mission was showing yourself. showing up. making meaning where otherwise there was none. standing courageously on an edge. jumping in.
I wanna be locked in and deliver you the greatest highlights of life, blown out in cursive, bonded by word, trailing our infinite press.
I believe it is good to be part of what is to come. Always a change. When you become it, staying exactly with it, they see you embody a movement and you can be credited, thus, you are the movement. This is not without dangers. You may rise and fall. You may lose yourself somewhat. They may disinherit you when the fashions change. I tend to shy from movements which are both conscious and public. I may identify with some, partways…yet I like to create space and step aside into it. I prefer my own rhythms. My own movement. Yet even personality is perilous. Life will go on so — become.
Created by a passion, shaped by forces both seen and unseen, driven by wind, confined to earth, dialed into feelings, fine-tuned by the moon and a heartbeat, enlivened by sun, roaring with water, beaming light and then darkness, laughing, conflicted, now humming with purpose, now drowned in thought… i become, out of stillness, and come to you. We are lucky, my dear, to appear on scene.
no matter what i think i know, i still make a question in my mind. i like to turn it upside down and climb upon the hovering moon fixed above the mark. then look out over the scene and make myself curious, if already i am not. then when i am ready, shut my eyes and jump off