Draft puzzle pieces, notes, and other Entries that point to some [event] and past
“It’s not rude to just be with those who are with you always.”
What is it you worship? What is centered every day?
Pause. Heart, beat. Heart, rumble. With a roar and a whisper, with a rush and a cry, life erupts from faultlines. From wreckage, something new.
// my cells contain stories weaving 300 bridges to the sun. when this body opted for detonation, i learned to listen.
Algol: Medusa was turned into a monster after she was raped. After being discarded, villainized, and murdered, she was turned into a star. Different cultures call the star variations on the demon star, and say it invokes the power of righteous rage against patriarchal violence. When you don't know how else to speak, address the star.
I watched my past and understood. I mourned the loss of innocence, my futures, trust, friendship, everything I hadn't felt at the time. It was very cerebral. An in-between space where I could see, feel, but not be consumed. Perhaps it was the power of this void place. Perhaps it was the power of a Wolf-Headed-One.
"Do you ever wonder? You are called Little One."
"Some people can't be saved."
"I cannot -- will not -- be the judge."
[fondly] "stupid one. Brave, brave, stupid little one."
Bear: “I cannot go with you [tonight].”
“Where?”
Wolf: [wordless points]
“…I'm gonna need to refill my water first, aren’t I.” .
“What do you want me to know?”
Remembering the weak.
Alchemist: “If they're still alive, they need to know what is happening.”
Ram is giddy with excitement. They love creating. Their vibe has changed since we first met. They are brighter and deeper, even fiercer, and while they feel less reckless, they also seem even more likely to just go do things on their own (well, sorta – I think I’d be along for the ride).
A snippet from a lecture:
“What I realized was what they’re worried about was a popular uproar against them. They’re worried that something like Occupy Wall Street is going to happen, because this happened before Occupy Wall Street. They’re worried that a bunch of people are going to go to the streets and demand their heads on a platter. And that could really change things. They're more worried about change than we are about making it. They're afraid they can do more than we think we can do. So, it makes me think that they're vulnerable."
We went for a flight into the earth, to bedrock and foundations, into a cave with the Alchemist. But it wasn't a normal cave under a tree, it was a cave hewn from bedrock. Things - Roman numerals, or names, maybe? Were carved into the stone. Everything was square and not too roughly carved. The foundations of our institutions.
Alchemist: “Touch the walls.”
[Things go fuzzy here]
Alchemist: “What would you do with these [foundations?”
Above New York, and these blocks were the foundations of Wall Street. But the buildings were no longer institutions that siphoned resources from the earth and communities – these buildings were community housing. Vertical gardens and farms. New York was clean, green. It felt like a community, not sterile. Everyone had enough. People weren't operating from a place of lack, but rather, they had enough, and their labor brought them joy – they weren’t alienated from it. [ZOOM OUT]. The same thing was happening across all cities. Flint had new pipes. The Colorado River was full and reached Mexico again. Polar bears had ice. Further, and further, until there was Earth (?), a green planet and a blue-black planet. I was home.
Welcome home.
Welcome home.
Alchemist: "Take care of yourself. What do you want to build?”
[touch the wall, talk and walk]
“Release – Revolution. Creativity. Rest. Wisdom. Abundance. Balance. Trust. Confidence. Knowledge. Consume – Waste. Greed. Scarcity. Lack. Fear. Poison. Build – Freedom. Freedom."
Alchemist: “We have barely begun to build. It’s time to do the things that bring you joy—create and build, build and create. You will remember what to do, even as you learn. Welcome--"
Alchemist: “--Welcome--”
I am reminded of the Archimedes quote about moving the world, if only he has a long enough lever and a fulcrum upon which to place it. It feels as if the Alchemist is laughing.
"There is work to do."'
[ZOOM IN]
Sickeningly fast, to the ground, in a city surrounded by humans. It is dirty – overpasses with weeds and graffiti, tall buildings, metal guardrails. Humans are dirty, filthy, used to scarcity yet know that something is wrong. They live too close together, move awkwardly, and scramble, clawing, for comfort, for a chance to survive, and connection.
“What are you afraid of?”
Ritual notes kept on a scrap, found later:
Offer local gin, local whiskey, fatwood. Set out knife, yarrow, river rocks, little bag of yarrow. Keep the ghost pipe tincture. Bare feet in the dirt. Eat chocolate.
The Alchemist: “Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean something isn’t there.”
The flames dance yellow and blue under the blue-black night sky and an almost-full moon. [ASK: for protection, for the protectors to step up and step in, to take care. ]
I am hungry all night. This food was supposed to last two days.
Bear: “It’s good for you.”
Wolf [from the canyon]: “Sit. [It may have been a boulder, or the foundation of a building. What it was supposed to have been or used for does not matter any longer. Now its purpose is to be a seat.]
Wolf perched on the ruins of an old home, or a shop, or a wall. Beautiful and full of contradictions. Pitch black, darker than night, grey, silver, charcoal, elegant, smoke, clearly defined, without boundaries – everything and nothing at once.
Bear, Alchemist, and all three of Stag’s eyes focused on us from outside this space. This attention wasn’t disapproving, but rather, seemed to say, “you have no idea what you actually just did.” [concerned]
Wolf: “You are brave. And still stupid. Hurry, we must stitch you back together. This is not a place you can stay.”
Path stretched forward and back, over and around hills and mountains, beyond the horizons. This land is one of belongings left in a hurry, crumbling foundations, and dead landscapes. It aches. We pass petrified trees, burnt-out buildings, forests, and fields dead from drought. Foundations razed after plague. famine. land left fallow.
Wolf: “We are outside of time.”
Wolf: “We are outside of time.”
Dialogue:
Wolf: “You winced.”
“My back.”
Wolf: “You are carrying things you shouldn't be."
“Could we walk?”
Wolf: “You are brave and stupid. We can walk.”
“Fear not useful if it freezes."
Wolf: “Stupid and brave.”
“If I am stupid and brave, who are you?”
“How do I keep [things] from getting stuck?”
Wolf: [laugh] “You already know how to do that.”
“Can we keep walking?
Wolf: “You are brave and stupid. We can walk.”
“If I am brave and stupid, who are you?”
Wolf: “Like the others, I am you and more than you. Humans would call us gods, though we are far greater than that lesser being you once cursed at under the night sky.”
“This is not all a current debt coming due–past due. Some of it is so very old, but it feels familiar.”
Wolf: “You are the dreams your ancestors dared.”
"If that, and if you are part of me, then who - what - are you?”
Wolf: “You should be afraid.”
“I'm not.”
Wolf: “Brave and stupid indeed.”
“Can you teach me? You see things that otherwise would be left hidden. Things many would prefer stay hidden.”
Wolf: “You should be afraid.”
“I'm not. Can we keep walking?”
Wolf: “You don’t know when to stop. Brave and stupid.”
“Can you teach me to see what is still hidden?”
Wolf: “You don’t know what you are asking. You should be afraid.”
“Well, those both might be true. But I'm not afraid.”
Wolf: “No one does this. It’s not advised.”
Words weren’t working.
[Wolf, the one who saw everything hidden, was going to need things spelled out.]
Frustrated, realized that only a few minutes earlier I had untangled something foreign from my body and sort of put myself back together – and Wolf had been willing to help with the rest.
Reckless.
[Didn’t pause to think. Sinking fingers between ribs and sternum, grabbed each side of ribcage and tore. No longer made of skin and bones and organs, but silver-blue light. As I tore, the faint green light grew stronger. Wolf stares directly into the silver-blue of everything wordless, like pouring Peroxide on a wound but cooling.]
Words clearly weren’t working. [Wolf, the one who saw everything hidden, was going to need this spelled out in a different way. Frustrated, realized that only a few minutes earlier I had untangled something foreign from my body and sort of put myself back together – and that Wolf had been willing to help with the rest. I didn’t pause to think. Sinking fingers between my ribs and my sternum, I grabbed each side of my ribcage and ripped my chest apart. No longer made of skin and bones and organs, I was silver-blue light. As I tore, the green light around us grew stronger. The Shadow, the Wolf stared directly into the silver-blue of my chest everything I didn’t/don’t have words for, everything they already knew. Their gaze felt like pouring Peroxide on a wound but also oddly soothing. Wolf saw the most vulnerable, hidden parts it already knew about, but I don’t know how to unearth.
Showed Wolf what I had attempted to say.]
blue abstract face / water falling image goes with this
/ roots, bare feet. cool dirt. tunnel becomes ledge becomes two routes: up to a ledge and down to a waterfall pouring into an ocean. pause. careful steps approach the water-that-is-not-water. ankle deep. downpour. silver-blue water-that-is-not-water sinks into skin. face upturned. cupped hands. restored for the moment, notice a familiar figure on the ledge. roots, vines, rocks demand careful steps for bare feet.
stand together.
"wait."
/ a wild love emerges from the waterfall. wet feet meander, leaving muddy prints and tiny pools of water with each pause to collect part of a plant.
/ child bolts out from behind the waterfall. Bucktoothed, with too-long limbs and a lopsided grin, she skids to a halt in front of the twigs and drops to the ground, cross-legged.
Child: “Beat you.”
// here. this will help.
calloused hands wrap around, steadying shaking fingers at risk of spilling the bowl. warmth.