This week has been a mess of nonsense. One minute things are fine, the next there’s an urgent letter that arrives and I spent time trying to decipher it, then I realize what day it is and go spinning back in time to try and make some words for that. I have assignments that are due and all I could do was try, but it came out as nonsense.
The more I thought about the subject and form, the aesthetic requested, the more frustrated I became with my inability to execute. I searched my words for a connection I could use to make what I had written qualify. I failed.
Then today, 91319, I woke up and realized what day it was. Another glorious palindrome, Friday the 13th, and the crescendo of the Waxing Moon. Behold, now it all makes sense.
Of course with Friday the 13th there is fear. The letter, what I’m most afraid of.
Of course with the full moon there’s a swarm of human emotion and longing.
Of course with the day, the date, there’s a strong desire to think logically and make connections.
The nonsense I had written was not nonsense at all. Now it all makes perfect sense.
It’s first draft Friday again and what I have is not yet in its proper form, but it will do, for today… Aftermath of the Swell
Finding joy in beautiful messes,