All Are Correct About the Direction of Our Unique Gratitude
Yes ... Yes ... Yes ...
This gamble has a coherence that breathes and it is not talking out of its anus ... The way a held breath becomes a held note becomes a held hand ... All three are the same temperature ...
What strikes us most is how much lighter the scent and aroma became ... by not adding any more volume ... A forest fire smells like distance until you are inside it ... then it smells like now ...
We cut and removed dozens of dense extremities ... The pruned branch does not know it is helping the tree ... The tree does not know it is helping the fruit ... The fruit does not know it is helping the tongue that eats it ... All of them are correct about the direction of gratitude ...
The bare feet stand crooked ... and definitely have a more interesting shimmer ... The way water reflects a bridge and the bridge reflects nothing ... Water remembers what passes over it ... Bridges forget ...
The physical evidence does much more effective work than straight text content ever could ... A fingerprint is a landscape seen from above ... A landscape seen from above is a fingerprint left by something too large to name ...
Olivier's filthy children land hard ... during the third take of seventh scene ... The mud on their knees remembers being cloud ... The cloud does not remember being mud yet ... It will ...
The new noir shadows of food items feels like they are operating in a different incantation ... Entirely ... A potato grows toward darkness while its leaves grow toward light ... The potato and the leaves have never met ... They are the same body arguing with itself about where home is ...
This sense of touch circles ... returning to toy piano licks ... Because some songs are too short to finish ... A river is always leaving the mountain ... The ocean never asks where it came from ...
Is there a stranger catch? ... or ... broader set of missing principles? ... A spider web catches what it cannot eat ... It holds the shape of waiting ...
Please trust our incompleteness ... an elephant trunk isn't always fuller than a snake's tongue ... Both are arms reaching for what the body cannot reach alone ... The snake's tongue tastes the air for what is coming ... The elephant's trunk tastes the air for what is already here ... Same air ... different questions ...
Trust that middle eye consciousness God gifted you ... The one that blinks when the other two are certain ... The one that sees the seed falling and the earth rising at the same time and knows both are true ...
Almost every single landscape painting ... every iteration of a scene ... Paul Cezanne ever did feels unfinished ... in a very sweet and lovely way ...
The apple he paints is still ripening ... The mountain is still deciding whether to become a valley ... The tablecloth is sliding off the table so slowly that only paint can catch it ... He leaves the canvas before the fruit learns it is dying ...
We are all Cezanne's apple ... Held mid-fall ... Mid-ripening ... Mid-rot ... The light touches us and moves on ... The painting remains ... The apple does not ...
This is not loss ...
Wait ... we cut that line already ...
Good ...
Oyparaploo
From a remote place ... still ripening ...
