this little light of mine... ♫

You would struggle so hard
even for a moment

to box me

to frame me

to own me

in thoughts

in words

your 'near'
your 'far'
your 'mine'
your 'yours'
your 'right'
your 'wrong'
your 'truth'
your 'lies'

and more?

You would fight to bind me

to confine me

to slow me down

"what for?"

You would have me

apologize

for all the world

out side your

acceptable spaces and

you would

blame

that i remind you

of More?

my cheap words
written spoken in
surround-sound stereo

I share with all of you for "free-99"

will you

let it go

to waste?

the message is
never mine

i fight in "dark" places bent backwords without breaking
without braking

all these people with dark faces
call me a knight of all races the
night of old graces a
knight of hard chases the
night ending ender of justice's lost cases a
knight-"light" for life through this fear metastasis

will.we.you.i
let.it.shine?
let.it.shine?
let.it.shine?

i do sing yet
every day
maybe not in every way
but then. . .

You would

shoot me

maybe I'm your messenger?

my duty is never to your fear


here, hear:

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine

let it shine,
let it shine,
let it shine!

. . . is a song my grandmother
sang to me
bouncing me
on her leg,
even after the surgery
dying from cancer she
and still he

lived "like she was dying"she
loved fearlessly

left silently
left breathlessly

showed me
and let me be me
back then like tomorrow I was ready to see
I felt the fight of the "light" that lay ahead of me

understanding

was never meant for me
how was I meant to be?

you will never see
through mental enmity
your oldest jealousy
it's not me you see
I'm not your enemy

i :: am :: a mirror
made for reflection
just an enzyme
look to me to see
those places you deny introspection

i :: say :: "let's FIGHT"
for ever in a joint direction:

some day
some way

just be?

and there we'll be
finally

let it shine?






:p

Comme un peintre qui voit sous ses doigts naître les couleurs du jour.

... Et qui n'en revient pas ...

Warning: Before reading this post, wait at least 15 minutes after eating, giving birth, or hatin' on a mofo. Don't give (y)our mind a cramp : \

Ask (m)any quantum physicists, philosophers, psychologists, andor friends ...whether armchair/grant supported/other... you might hear that we create the world as we perceive or imagine it -- metaphorically and literally.

Hopes and dreams and wants and fears and will -- maybe this is the stuff dreams are made of. Hey, maybe it's the stuff stuff is made of.

I don't subscribe to time (the magazines, the concepts) and am not terribly upset with my habits of making choices in consideration of matters that may be said to lie in my relative past or future. As I see, If I see, maybe neither direction is necessarily clearer or more accessible.

So, it may be that at times I'll touch on matters that I haven't learned of (yet) or that went on before I was around, or before anyone alive was around, or before anyone ever was around. It may be that I'll bring up something for which I have no apparent context, and it may be that until/since the time comes for the notions to catch up to the context in some other foo, it'll all be quaint art and bull for most practical purposes.

No, I won't claim to read minds or see the past or see the future or see ... anything, really -- but if I suggest that we may be no less influenced by what may be than we are by what may have been ... or if I suggest that we may be on a daily and even continuous basis confronting eddies and flows of our future and past or that the nature of being and choice itself might even depend on this sort of temporal incest... well, then. Fuck me, I'm screwed!

Cuz I wouldn't suggest any of that.

That's just crazy talk. Mental diarrhea.

Y'all just flush and mosey on.


Here's the beef:


I'm getting carried away in the fruit of my choices. I'm working in and on and through what some people continue to call "big things" and it's overwhelming and welcoming and comfortable and beyond me. As it seems it has needed to be for some time. And this flow is so sweet.

So, my work is art to me. My will-babies and thought-kids have been growing into practical toddler-group-notions, team efforts, and community endeavors. They've been sustained on the kindness of strangers and some kind of will. Beautiful people and difficult, necessary choices all day every day. It's fun, and there aren't words for the bits that stand out most to me as "yes *nod*".

And so, these Joe Dassin lyrics of "Et si tu n'existais pas" (If you didn't exist) ... well they stand out now as they have since Inessa first played that cassette in the '90s, back when Alla and I had time and inclination to talk -- as accessible reflections of some sense of getting lost in one's own creation. Even if only for a time.

Let the judges call it selfish, or privileged or genius or crucial or healthy or wtf or masturbatory or wtf.... the artist who painted the image I've posted above (without explicit permission, mind you! oh, know!) liked Sweet Honey in the Rock's song-expression "We Are" and I'll just say that it fits.

It fits, the notion that we should^* be taken in by our works, our art, our creativity -- it fits with the notion that we are ourselves creations, the stuff of dreams, the hopes of others long past or yet to be, that we should^* at once and ever be creating and created and creators and at any moment... look in-side or out-side and see ourselves being painted, even as we paint.

(This isn't quite what that Dassin song's apparently ....about... it's more written along the lines of someone who's expressing love and destiny and that even in a world that might exist without his ..destinée... his actions and life might somehow be bent in her would-be direction, he'd effectively create her if she didn't exist, and he'd be lost in his creation of her. Acceptance, acknowledgement, imposition of fate and dedication....something along these lines)

Every choice we make just might be every choice that will ever have been made, when it's all said and done, if it's ever all said and done.

As shady and tough and skew and unsummarizable and fruitful and suiting and refreshing and moving as what I'm working on is, I love it. I'm doing what I'm moved to do, what I'm called to do, what I choose to do, what I must do. I love me, too, and golly ... maybe even you! And this thing that I do, is totally in keeping with that. Even where I stumble, I don't fall. Even where I fall, I get back up, count my leg(s), get my silli butt up and get there. Absolutely-Grinning.

;) "and I can die when I'm done"

*=(subjunctive "should". Don't look at me for what you should or shouldn't do, punks.)

Sweet Honey in the Rock :: I Be Your Water

(Listen at Yahoo)

I...I......I.......I..........

I be your shelter
I be your land
I be your every-thing;
I be your friend

I be your water

when you're thirsty and dry.


I woke up moaning in a crowded sick place
Surrounded by evil, protected by grace
There were these hands, hundreds reaching for me
They knew exactly who and what I should be
Each way I turned, each one stronger than the last
Which would I choose and how could I pass?

Then I heard whispers (be still, be still, be still)
From deep inside me (be still, be still, be still)
Then I heard whispers (be still, be still, be still)
From deep inside me (be still, be still, be still)

As I gave power to the sound of my own voice
A way broke before me, I followed my choice
I walked along the way other lives had been
Till I came to what seemed like an end
Again these hands, (there were these hands ) reaching beck'ning for me
(there were these hands)
They knew exactly who and what I should be

Again the whispers (be still, be still, be still)
Keeping me steady (be still, be still, be still)
Again the whispers (be still, be still, be still)
Keeping me steady (be still, be still, be still)

The way before me was mine to take
There was no road, no path to take
As I had my life through this muddy rock way
Others toiled beside me for a justice new day
Still, I have felt lonely (I have felt lonely), most of the time (I have felt lonely)
Walking this sweet freedom struggle of mine
Still I have felt lonely (I have felt lonely), most of the time (I have felt lonely)
Walking this sweet freedom struggle of mine

Saved by the whispers (be still, be still, be still)
Keeping me steady (be still, be still, be still)
Saved by the whispers (be still, be still, be still)
Keeping me steady (be still, be still, be still)

Yesterday I stumbled around the bend
I saw you standing you reached me your hand
I've seen you before, oh many a time
Why, your life had plowed the road right next to mine
Now you make the sun (you make the sun) rise in my sky (you make the sun)
You rock the cradle honey, you make me fly
You keep me company
Now you make the sun (you make the sun)
Rise in my sky (you make the sun),
You rock my cradle honey,
You make me fly
You keep me company

I...I......I.......I..........

I be your shelter
I be your land
I be your every-thing
I be your friend
I be your water
when you’re thirsty and dry




..."I Be Your Water"
.....by Bernice Johnson Reagon (of Sweet Honey in the Rock)

(Listen at Yahoo)
(Sweet Honey in the Rock Official Website)

(
1) Download this song by any means feasible (eMule, I hear, just might do the trick)
2) Listen. Really. No--really.
3) Mail them a donation. Use online banking to save time and postage. If you're not inclined to do so, consider reading more about Sweet Honey in the Rock, listening to more of their music, then repeat steps 2-3.
)

every story that matters ;)

Together, two People crossed a short Distance
to the edge of a chasm of
Infinite Potential,
Unlimited Possibility

Blind and Deaf, neither knew the other's name.
each Knew the other.

one said, "in this chasm, there is nothing i do not Understand"
the other said, "in this chasm, i see Me. i see You. i am Glad"


choosing not to jump,
Separately, they Climbed

out of the chasm

and were born.

:p