windthread

today again.          Some time ago,    in the effort to consolidate,  within the larger Effort to be Ready,   i dumped all the colored pencils into a shoe box.   From the  Scab Red metal box,  into which i put currently used art things and things like the best awl that had belonged to my grandfather  and  a couple clay  carving tools,  jewelry size screwdrivers   etc.   Julian was the last to use the colored pencils and he hasn't,   in a long time.    I had  forsaken them  for Inktense.    A couple days ago,  Emrie wanted paper when we were sitting OutThere at the  Goat Dust Table while Alyssia was inSide,  switching the ice over in the fridge.   I brought out the shoe box too.   She was thrilled.   And instantly got a Yellow to draw a Sun.   When Alyssia  came out she mindlessly poked her finger around and held up this pen,  saying…you might not want to leave this in here….and i……..saw……………..it.      and then she found another.  Held it up.  Black.   Sepia

looking at them i was transported BACK some years,  many years,  really…..i don't know exactly….that info has not made itself available to me yet,  but   the  FeltSense of Familiarity was so so strong……

I amazoned and yup…still available…i ordered.  Some black.  Some Sepia.   and when i looked at the word Sepia,  more of this story presented….       i had gotten these  at the Art Supply Store in Albuquerque.    Near the Food Co-Op where i went for Ethiopian Harrar Coffee.    Driving from Polvadera maybe once a month.   During   A TIME.    It was not an easy time.  I remember a moment….on the Freeway….I-25…….driving hard,     Singing Wire  ,  the Native American station blaring,   Drumming,    when as i described it later to  Kay,   Kay Gould Caskey,  my drawing mentor,   i described as  Happy For No Reason.     ALL this flooded up and in and washed over the seeing of this  Pigma Micron 01 pen   

this began what continued today in that half waking place of some kind of understanding of what   Stuff     IS.    That it is not only what    It     IS,   but also,  it carries Time within it.      Place in Time.   Place in Who We Are?,  coming from Who We Were??????  Bringing us to the present Edge?

There is no way i can actively THINK about all this.   It will either become more clear or it won't.   In the meantime,  i will have a more sensitive sense of

Stuff.

I listened to Kitchen Sisters Podcast 171   What Fire Reveals   and from there,  listened to Utube  Grateful Dead Fire on the Mountain…over and over…which took me back to Oregon.   eeeeeeeeeeeeee.    Where i am tonight.   Tomorrow is another day.

Jack,   Jumpin Jack Flash,   FINALLY

accepted a carrot from Emrie.   His First.    Her Joy.      Off to Fire on the Mountain.   version    12-31-78