I place here
light sketches of tarot draws,
dusky mother goose variations,
spelling errors, grammatical inconsistencies,
any other tidbits that might help me fathom this movement called life.
They’re simple but dense.
Layered, short-form observational opportunities.
Traditionally connected to the natural world.
I call mine “sort-of haiku”, you know:
inspired by the old form
but curious about other (short) forms as well.
What’s with the moons?
Our awareness of the structures of time is largely passive or one-dimensional.
We have inherited from Europe a 12-month, sun-based,
abstracted, structured, sanitized framework
upon which we base our ideas of
seasons, opportunities, celebrations, births, deaths, sleep, growth, food, warnings,
We have increasingly inherited—
through means other than just time-keeping, of course—
lonliness, isolation, anxiety:
a distancing from our original home,
the organic, rhythmic, non-mechanized world.
I think being conscious of time keeping,
among other things,
tells our whole body with regularity what’s happening really
in the places that we’re from.
We can’t go back.
There is no woodland utopia for us to return to.
However, we don’t have to go passively into the deepening structures of colonialism.
With language, we create power over lives.
When we name things, we see things.
Things seen are things known, changed, or protected.
So here, I choose new language.
I name my moons, as others departed have done.
I work to watch time in a new-but-old fashion.
And inside of that structure,
I work to watch myself in a non-colonial, exploratory,
playfully serious manner.
Like all things, it is an in-progress thing.
Like or don’t like: both engagement.
Back, forth or side: all steps.
Pleasure and pain: one source, so they say.
I also write longer-form thoughts (still subject to foible and error)
and do creative wellness coaching.
Read all about it.