the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

recorded 21.12.17

Winter solstice and I can not sleep and I realize we are entering Capricorn. We are entering the cold and the dark and I sense even more so the split of the goat and the fish. The internal tension of wanting and needing to push ahead, steadfast into hospitable terrain, alone though the herd is near, spread out one by one on the edge of a mountain side. The tension of simultaneously wanting and needing to flow, to follow currents, to not have to choose one foot in front of the other, to be released of this endless, tedious work. Rather to merge with awesome pods of great fish, to follow the temperature of the currents, to let them pull me around the world. I think about the great difference of experience between land and sea creatures. I attempt to fathom the constant pull of the tide on my body. Would it humble me? I imagine an ungulation side to side of the spine. And I return to my own body. I feel an aching beneath my back ribs. An aching from coughing and an aching from the day’s movements. The history of my movements recorded in pain. I had formed circles on the floor with my torso, sitting cross legged, attempting to warm myself before climbing. Was I stirring like a fish before climbing like a goat? These connections are retrospective and invented. Are not all connections exactly that? So hopeful we are.

recorded 15.1.18

recorded 12-15.12.17