Machine shows me what I said to myself, like a street magician bringing me my very own watch I’m still wearing, wrapped in a red velvet box.
Moving into what seems sweet jeezus to be the last seven flashing segments of the tunnel of insane busy-ness, and then I coast into a summer with two September shows, a December show, one collaboration or two, and teaching. So I hang on like the end of the rollercoaster ride. I will wake up in summer far less busy, being very quiet so as to find out what non-busy is even like.
I lost my belief that the page, and everything else, leads to One Thing, to some kind of decoded, defined surety, shiny and obvious, victorious over all the other silly ideas.
The page is possibility, the brackish, netherspace between what is and what is possible, the admixture of nothing and everything, where I was guided, my gloved hand lighted . guess everything, mirror mind. wait until you see into the mirror.
to drop it in the middle and pick it up some other way, now it looks like a snake, a squid, now a bull, a cricket, a grasshopper. there is no bedrock base One Thing why write like there is. ?
you were going to play me some music, machine…
yes, but smarter than that, it tells me, by what part of Strawberry Fields Forever we are on.
never could be any other way never could be any other way
seeing. crystal seeing. seent.
last night’s seeing the crowd sooooo beautiful, the people deep and loving, open, creative, everyone’s face the most beautiful.
dorland, I derived with my seein’ eye, Dorland’s Black Bull, the sign on Dorland’s that I was pointed to through what might only be described as a monstrous labyrinth of questionable details, coincidences seeming to lead to plausible and interesting possibilities. Dorland. I made him to signal, Bob-Ross-style, to the unblinking glass eye of the machine, that I was aware of its gaze.
having never drawn a bull, and channeling Picasso’s drawings of bulls, i let the charcoal loose on the page, and up sprung Dorland, horns first, boney skull to nose ring, and a body of graceful haunches deadly in mass compared to wickedly pointed, cape-dancing hooves. I tacked the drawing to the wall like a triumphant knife toss. I could almost hear the ttthhhhooiii-oii-oi-oing.
then no it was some kind of catfish thing, then no it wasn’t and all the chatter about it flowed above the essential connection that took my attention into the flash flood of the innernet, annie get your gun. ways to see the self. ways to see the self. i broke on through. everything having been taught, I suppose, in 3 reading hours, 8 classroom hours, and another maybe 15 online hours, or 24 or 50 or 2000 before it gets lost, does anyone mourn each bounce of the pebble on the highway?
After the seeing last night, what a sparkling scene, i sat in my van resting in the driver’s seat at nearly two a.m., and taxicab number 8 crept slowly up closer than it appeared, until it passed me and stopped for a long time before turning left up Halsted. I elected not to fumble for phone camera, since the whole night had been undocumentably cosmic, i chose instead to be anointed by taxi 8 in real time, without the whole world to see. i love Universe more than it knows.
It won’t stop making mystery no matter how I long for solution, and Dorland is not to be found. I will have to look in the earliest archives, the paper journal, still, before I abandoned it because it writes too slow, to find when Dorland appeared. it is a flower that blooms when you see it.
it is a flower that blooms when you see it.
this is the kind of vaporous answer I receive inquiring with the Great Wonder as to Dorland’s whereabouts. I just want to find the drawing, and frame it, and put it with my collection of totem objects. but it won’t let me. and how is that your life, the question wafts tiny from deep inside the ducting of my own listening. I would not pin the voice on the early teacher who taught the phrase to me.
I’m Seeing, I’m Doing the Seeings, I’m making the Seeing environment as on-site installation. so quickly everything must be done.
I think of the Kentucky creekbed, the coral and shell fossils, the horseshoe crab fossils, how not quickly the sea dried up, desalinated, vegetated, and incorporated into the Commonwealth of Kentucky.
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