I’m having a hard time getting this blog out today. I have
written a couple of false starts, but they feel just that, false. Maybe
pedantic. So, apparently, I give you this instead. With love, M.
on an ancient surface of being there was a traveler. he sat
in his solitude for the time of nothing and worried that his everything was perhaps on the underside of the cushion on which he was sitting.
the traveler opened one eye, squinting through into the
vastness, lit like a clown in the spotlight of a tragi-comedy. there was
glitter on the lashes of his one eye and in the new light, they danced a fortuna among the lampposts of strands.
he hadn’t been able to pop his hip bone for a few millennia,
and it was thrumming in a monotone bassoon voice. hum hum hum. there were
other sounds too. the sharp and defiant crack of a planet being born. this made the corner of his mouth
turn up in mild approval and awe.
new-born planets have a very particular ring to them. like
the variety of meditation bowls. cheepey little excited planets, proud of
themselves for having been manifested into existence. the long slow toll of a
heavy planet with many moon brides, undergirding what ought to be a cacophony
of celestial banter, but which was also so encompassing, it was silence itself. or
not silence rather, but noiseless vibration.
through his cracked eye, the traveler concluded that it was
perhaps safe to open his second eye, but this one was turned inward to his soul
and teaching and center and calm, and he wasn’t quite sure that two outward
eyes were in fact what he wanted. but outward or inward, all of the eyes were
in fact in all of the directions already and without the deliberate gaze, the inner limitlessness would remain. without his gaze on the throbbing heart of invention,
it would still nonetheless be the throbbing heart of invention.
and so our traveler with his radiant vocal hip and internal
oculars intact, opened his second eye.
in that instant, both immediate and eternal, having been
happening all along and yet never once before, the darkness of his
surroundings burst into a firework finale of swirling color. the colors were
in full and ecstatic possession of themselves, and ran in spirals toward one another, creating for
a moment the scene of a forest or a skyscraper or a hyperfluorescent deep sea
creature with no eyes and 8 antennae.
the fluid colors tumbled about in the joy, merging,
separating, one color, multicolors, sparkles, pulses, and chased themselves around the
giddy and somber planets.
with his two eyes, and his trillions of bodily cells, the
traveler met and observed the dancers, all of whom were
encasing him and yet not existing at all. it was both void and dark stillness, and chaotic, sincere beauty.
with his two eyes, one an iris of pale blue
diamond, the other a slick curve of onyx, he brought forth the
invention, but also simply recognized it for the first time.
the glitter grabbed hold of the boulders of tears, careened down his face, and splattered into a thousand beads of light.
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