One of my friends said my website was like a Rauschenberg in electronic form with its collages in layers of color and words appearing or not appearing. Maybe she saw what this was before I did, as she was able to stand back a little. As it happens, I do tend to collage things and blend them with paint. And when some one or some moment does this well, I feel like flowers must feel — really warm and lovely and rooted.
This morning, as the sun pours through my window, and some birds cackle and I breathe from my belly, I can hear the thrum of everything on the planet expanding/contracting, waxing/waning, upping/downing, yin-ing, yang-ing. And then my little reptilian brain scurries, wanting to gain purchase of this thing: a place to stand steadily — a foothold — or complete dominion while we are at it. Which, of course, is needless. But cute, in its way. Like a salamander making its way across the rocks to bring a splash of blue to an already color-soaked moment. I will take it; and I will keep making words out of wordless things just to illustrate the edge of things, just to call back to you a little bit from where I live.