Friday, April 06, 2018

First to Last Lines

























There are shudders through the body demanding to be honoured. If they aren't addressed, these small breezes can catch a corner and turn vicious. Full emotional sweeps can leave one shaken, can rend otherwise fine days, can turn love sour. Also, and this is key, they (the feelings buried) can rise and erupt in ways unwanted - as disease. Dis-ease, as they say, and discomfort.....signs that something is not being addressed. Not only, of course. Illness isn't a one-track nightmare, the reasons for it way surpass any unscientific understanding of mine. I just know, that for myself, if I do not address my strong emotions they plunge down deep and wail away somewhere in my system, making the house crazy.

Hey, sometimes I actually forget that what I need is exercise. I need to engage my body in action, pound out the squeals through a brisk run or a goodly chant. Voice demands space. Voice not given turns bitter. And so sometimes when direct bodily action is somehow neglected, the quick flurry of small art making happens.

Here is some. The last few distilled bits from a much larger stack of full sheets. I took looseleaf binder paper, blue lined, classic. I rubbed it on stamp pads making ink clouds. I sprayed my fingers in minor wand work against the back of the paper, the front resting lightly on the ink pad. I kept going. I looked at the results, some too discrete some too loud. I chopped, I chopped, I sequenced. Me Me Me.

I chose a few, the final stragglers that made the cut, the rest went in the bin. Then I stamped some small words on them. I was left with the above. I like them fine. they are small scraps. I don't know what to do with them now. They are fragile little things, whisps. is it one piece of work now? Is it a poem? Does it remain a jpeg, a blog post or do I wrap it up in formality and present it for coos in a proper setting commanding eyes and cash money? Ha.

These are the remnants of a tiny storm that brewed one afternoon. Honour one's emotions. They hint loudly.




























A List of Potent Words





When I was thirteen or so, maybe fourteen, I combed through my copy of Roget's Thesaurus highlighting the words that inspired me, words like 'wretch' and 'talisman'.
At one point it seems I wrote some out.

I refound this card in a small box I've labelled "handwritten notes'. I sell them each for a buck in my shop. I tossed the note in there when I was clearing out my teen poetry a couple of years ago. (don't you worry, I saved some of it, the dazzling examples of purple jottings I'll wow you with one day).
I plucked this one out again because as I get older I realize that the important things for my well being are things I was inspired by before sex drugs and rock-n-roll came and ruined everything.

If I am to move towards wholeness and healing I am going to have to make a clearer space in my being for magic and spirituality. And that includes the darker aspects of things as well as the rainbow light.

When I was fifteen I acquired my magic name. I associated it with some weird abstract art I had begun to make. It then got associated with some ufo saint iconography I developed. As well as asemic languages.

Lately, I feel I have to explore my personal faith a bit deeper. It entails trying to reach out to this imagery, much of it scary as hell. It means accepting that I am able to access shadow realms. It means proudly delving into these realms and erecting a structure of odd shapes, weird creatures, unknown tongues. It means invocation of seemingly demonic forces. Oh well. Such is life.

I know these things/ languages/gestures aren't really demonic. They are shadowy, though, and kinda heavy. But I like them, they are familiar. They are kinda metal and kinda D&D and kinda me. It's ok to serve Chaos. It's ok to delve into shadow. It's ok to snark at oneself and smirk at the whole world. It's ok to scream and laugh and cry. It's ok to not know. It's ok to have allies that would scare the shit out of you if they walked into the room.

Blessings to all