Month: January 2021

Translation begins with reception.

Clarity is influenced by conductivity.

A baby is more conductive than a grown up.

To assume closes one’s eyes and ears.

To label is to assume.

Words are our first labels.

As soon as I think tree,

I no longer see the tree.

How to translate without labels?

Words are but one language.

As is dance.

And drawing.

And touch.

And music.

But what about that which can only be experienced and never explained?

Ephemeral essence.

As if a dream forgotten,

But embedded beyond.

And yet language is our super power.

A single word can change the world.

Can elicit memories and dears and joys and arousal and healing and recollection of smells, tastes, sounds and textures.

Words are spells.

Affecting crystallization, manifested existence, outcomes, perceptions.

Those who know words can influence existence.

A straight line, path, stream.

A calm lake.

An averaged amalgamated face.

A grade of C.

Fifty percent.

Vanilla.

Unfinished.

Generic.

The overlooked.

The wall-flower.

The hidden.

The subdued.

Grey-scale.

The weed growing in the crack of concrete.

But give the ordinary attention, love, respect, curiosity and time.

Sit with the ordinary.

Hold the ordinary.

Look deeply at the ordinary.

And subtly the secrets are revealed.

Unburdened by bright colors, loud sounds, spicy taste and over-stimulation.

Slowly yet suddenly.

Hidden beauty, magic and profundity shyly reveals itself.

The ordinary hide their secrets.

Just as the quiet person knows the depth and mystery of silence.

Give me the demure and overlooked. The little white flower, the trickle of a stream, the little brown mushroom.

The gentle and profound.

Intoxicated by subtle magic.

The snap, crackle and pops of a young one formed slowly by sudden upheavals of tectonic plates.

It’s cold being stone. Hard rocks exposed want the cover of lichen and moss.

Slowly a relationship forms as the single celled organisms embraces the stoic faces.

Time continues as clouds become a blur and every season is as if a heartbeat.

The warm soft cover builds with each whirling Earth rotation swinging around the Sun.

The birds flying above are friends.

Sometimes I wish I could fly.

But then how would my friends ever land?

Oh the trees. They tickle me as they dance with the breath and whispers of wind.

I love the hibernating bear within me during winter.

I feel as if hugging.

And the huckleberries are sweet nourishment while purple lupine and fragrant cedar give medicine.

Releasing through streams

And catharsis through landslides sloughing.

Fires and avalanches remind of my origin.