tri-x in mamiya c330 tlr
today, i sever the connection to my inner Wisdom with my own hands.
the Places She leads me, i cannot go because i am weak.
the Light She shows me, i cannot embody, because i am weak.
the River She floods, i cannot swim, because i am weak.
the Truth She sings, i cannot hear, because i am weak.
the Fruit She offers me, i cannot taste, because i am weak.
this threshold of Knowing is crossed, and so perhaps when i return, the door will be propped open.
but i know i will not return. i will search my whole life for that elusive gateway, and will not find it.
today i gather scraps of shed skin, and paste them to my face, because i am stupid.
because i am weak.
today i think of Orpheus, and plant seeds in my garden—let them be the Brave ones,
now that the frost has passed.
(but even Orpheus looked back.)
today i recognize that a bird in my backyard has called out,
(as i write this, shortcake says, “look, mama! a bird!”)
like a reminder of Morning,
and that i chose sleep, as did you, because we are weak.
(did you?)
this is not Bravery. this is not receptive Stillness. this is not bold Foolishness.
this is not silent Power.
this is smallness. because i am weak.
(does anyone have any chocolate?)
i’ll add a few inspiring, though not “pretty” links now, to completely contradict everything i just said:
a poem about dancing. yeow
i’ve always wanted to photograph people in the shower. check out this series. yeow.
in case you missed this on my facebook, yeeeow again:
