Sky all the way to Road

As far as the horizon, and as wide as my heart, strong flowers...





































I started photographing roadkill as a kind of playful competition with this slice of awesome. Quickly though the conversation turned to speed, to distance, both physical and between species. That coyote we saw, perfect except for his raw jawbone (broken neck?) -- were we the only humans to see him? Ever? Probably the only ones to photograph him. That frog -- did the car that squished him even notice? When we move so fast, in cars, miles and air and neighbors speed past, and where are we? One biker I know says "Speed kills," and he means the Imagination, the Relation, the chance to greet a cousin before she is unrecognizable and flat.

Beyond the Bus

The sun is rising on land brand new, and I am heading out, out. Past a jigsaw night of highway and other people's dreams bumping into mine. Past cell phone networks and into the parlors of badgers and falling stars.

Got my home on my back again, and the image of my campsite calling. All I need is a good warm hat, and all the week will be cozy.

See you back in the world.

Falling Stars Know My Name

For many of my years now, nighttime has been for play. For dancing, for joking, for friends, for frolicking, for movies and dinner and parties. And for sleeping. Occasionally for fire. Very rarely, it is for fear and feeling small. (There is always the tricky 8 o'clock hour to be passed; somehow there is a door to depression waiting for between 8 and 9pm. (The Meridian Organ Clock points out that this bit of time is meant to be the height of activity for the precordium/heart/protection meridian, so This All may be part of the Opening Project.))

And then there's the moon. My body does know it's important to be under the moon. But that's a whole story in herself.

So, barring bonfires, owling, insomniac prowling, Halloween and the moon, it's been a long time since I put myself out in the night because of the night. For nearly as long, I've wanted to backpack myself to the Perseid meteor shower. To leave daytime to everyone else for a while, and give myself to some giant sky, the dark, and stars falling.

I always imagined hiking into the orange desert for it's unequivocable edges and purple sky. But it's August (maybe for the Leonids!). And I only have a few days. And I want grass beneath me. And N Dakota is exactly far enough, and dark enough. It's sky stretches forever and it's land is green. It's cities don't pollute the night sky with pale stains. And anyways, the summer's stress has finally crested. And my adrenals are exhausted. And my heart is stretched over many miles. And my camping equipment is perfect. And I've just mensed and danced my demons out.

And there is a bus leaving Tuesday.

Some Things I Know For Sure

1. Madison is home, and when I am here I am home, home, home without question. At home moving through these streets and grasses, the layers of memories and familiarities so thick it's like a dense white noise relieving the twitch of my reptile-survival brain. So easy to be here, building edifice against boredom becomes the lifestyle of choice, and I do my days gathering resources to do my nights of constructing more awesome.

2. Full-impact living for me, please. For the past couple of months, I've kept myself busy. Really busy, 11-hour-doing days, full-time-job-then-4-more-hours, "it's not an obsession, it's a community art project" busy. I've loved it. It's well and truly kicked my ass. And I've made beautiful things, big and impressive things, felt enormous emotions, deepened my insight into the intersections of synesthesia and empathy, forged closesness and love, and moved about so thoroughly my body is every cell comfortable. I started keeping myself busy to keep my mindself occupied and keep doubt at bay. Somewhere in there, I got pulled up short and slapped with a reminder that Power must be met with Presence. You are a bright light for reminding me I am always playing for keeps, darling, thanks.

3. I am moving towards the awesome. What started out as joking mantra has become concrete compass-rose, a real guiding star. A real, simple decoder-ring decision-making strategy: Does the thing in front of me move me towards the awesome? Yes? Okay, let's do. No? No thanks, nothing doing. I move towards what makes me happy, as often as I can, in word and action. Simple as that. Good work, good food, interesting conversation, kind people, more experiences. Moving this way also brings me towards Success, and Health, and Home -- in the inner-world-is-strong-and-well-lit sense of the word.

4. I don't always need to be home.