I wondered if I could make the word page full screen, aware I am that one day this version of full screen will seem so quaint. How do you make the writing bigger? How do you make text a more encompassing experience? And don’t pretend like it can’t go that way, but it goes that way if it does it goes that way not by ink but by voodoo.
This sort of administrative day I take like an assault, not that I am unwilling, but the facts of it, the endless endless endless tedium of getting by on anything other than spontaneous conjuring, and the nittily pickily searching for the right stamp. And hold, and customer support, BUCKminster, how could you have had any hope? But, but! My friend would tell me practice is practice and I’d think maybe for you. I’d think it until I got tired of being in pain, and then I’d just do it, and time would unfurl with vented side wings.
I come back Later at just the right moment. Stories. And, I decide I am making optics not traveling this week. They need to be on the wall, waiting, like the sourdough starter, the work needs feeding, watering, to be worked with the fingers. Maybe nothing will arrive, but just in case I reserved the photographer. I haven’t solved the hardware arm issue. So these will be brazed and I have a fearling that they will be ideal that way and I will have to install my brazing hood in my 4th floor studio.
I go to the monks chanting station to enter the work, whatever it will be. My left arm is back for short engagements and the optics are about to boil over, even yesterday, with sunlight and one of my ears in the phone, they take every opportunity to manifest. The body knows and does, it made itself a cast and I know the healing sensation.
I un-cross my legs, so everything can flow better along the body’s meridian lines. It has been so helpful to have done the far out mediations, to expand my reader sensation, Know Thyself, and then Give Thyself Away, this runner I am with the feet and the calendar.
I am not really here to sail away on a studio day very far, although every day I connect to the work, every day, I always have to be ready for the tall part of the cycle to start up again. The light a certain way, the both-worlded photon, without time, it only supports what the amplituhedron shows about time, that it is not a primary feature. Mm-hmm. That’s what they say, but sometimes the light gets a certain way.
Show us the ________________ and here is where my brainwork is parked, at the word, I’m taking a very slow walk to the word, like I did to Shadow Matrix, because what I say it is, it is. Everything will be much better if science has already said what it is, named it, so that I am not saddled with the responsibility of naming refracted light that falls on the surfaces after having passed through an optic. I’m sure there’s a word somewhere in science for it. If however, I am going to coin one, which would amaze me, like what’s the word for the clear stuff in the oceans and lakes and that comes out of the faucet, then I will walk slowly to that word.
So I turn to my higher Self, Self, I say, and I name it, goat-god, I say to it, now it’s a someone else, with something about it I can’t see, which absolves me of my creative responsibility. Even so, I feel the heavenly bodies pulling everyinsideoutway, Self, goat-god, remind me how I make everything up in my mind from stuff I’d barely recognize if I showed it. and because I am too small, too small not to demand a blood promise. and there is that pull, like more Saturns and Jupiters than Math, and there couldn’t be anybody but Chaos and Reader who comeup with the world I see.
Aye, the lab notebook of Newton, his voice clear as if whispered close in a tunnel, I had freak reading experiences, reading the generously scanned original pages, the ink the pen, I zoomed in and felt just exactly the tilt of the nib of the pen, his writing shows he can find the flow, he is regular and meticulous, with all possible wonder and reverence. He gives his writing hand to the powers he examines. I wonder if he, too, experienced (Dick gave me ‘Newton is the present’ not once but twice, by typing ‘examines’ instead of ‘examined.’ He is done fucking with me since I said those things about him, and now he’s like, ‘learn it bitch,’ holy god send help he found a way to drink in the afterlife.)
All things of a nature, Newton can categorize, and see down to the roots of a thing, even when he is stuck in his powdered wig explaining about the Finger in the Eye.
I get taken, completely swept away with the drive in the sweet becoming, what better state is there than, ‘soon… ’ I see the scene on the side of the road, my vision has scent and the fresh air makes the crispy gravel sound under my steps, the sound of the present in the deep end, I’ll have those boots on, the brown ones, the ones I never slipped in. and there is something on the horizon,