A Secant Query

Between Sear and Cauterize

Wherein work is to hold a flame...

Between Sear and Cauterize

Anticipate and Drown

Noticing what we no longer access when our needs are met through the snap of intelligent resolve is difficult not for the work, but for the long exposure to the same resolving question.

Like burner, our hand wants to go away. From the question, comes the quick reply - a long reply is not just wrong (socially), its downright materially embarrassing and (emotionally) acerbic.

Perfectionism, at its core, is about (that is: antagonistic toward, violent toward) noise. Where perfection is attempted and fails blooms paranoia: a noise-cancelling concession. To keep it away, feel more feelings.

Edge Me Harder

Paranoia serves: we end up with a planet because disc of iron we actually are (compact around the Sun in the third harmonic) is "good". And planet-form is "bad" but: because it forgets.

Paranoia's slop, human to the rest of everything. Human is paranoia's forgetting: we go into the disaster, pull out the creature, not because that's what they would do but because the death would be noise; It would be annoying. Note:

The same situation, creature shakes their head, and you nod, and they die. I've lived both these situations. These are conversations I have had. Noise is a dance partner. And may refuse.

To continue a dance with what noise is (and is not) permissible is to hold conversation with something all things a culture sets up to never make ring (to never form a planet, make sense).

What Is This?

And it makes sense, right; If a long note is allowed to connect back to itself, more long notes might be out there, building ring, forming access point: a gate to allow their flow through.

Be that flow paint or breathe, step or watercolor, pause or cooking, tend or steeping: a flow is a series of gates meeting a particular attention where it is at, and stepping over the pain/noise.

Because what's on the other side is everything that can be recognized as the time it took to get here - this ground, these words, the inflection never added to writing inviting that connection.

When cracks in perfection form (precisely-first to die is which star? Don't just say 'Lucifer' - point) - vase broken, heart torn, city festered - they have done their art. May another do theirs.

Did I Just Die?

The perfect aren't looking for a way back; they are looking for a way to be honored through the release. To be picked up, noticed for a moment. And set back down, warmed by what held them.

A limb on a tree in town chainsaw'd away, a tree chainsaw'd away, a sweep clears out a camp. Or people taken out of work and home need more vulnerability - air - from those who are still here.

That isn't more effortful help It's more patience for a slow go, a clarifying question not afraid to face imperfection. Surviving the cascade it sets more often than social mores find appropriate.

What keeps us safe is everything ears are doing, and even more things ears do we still learn to appreciate. A pause. To ask harder, slower question, a fuck the world found perposterous.

Please Ask Invite Me

Letting the moment not know what it needs, giving the moment space to freak out about that, allowing the moment space to open. Vital, terrifying, tender things a yes is born from.

Yes doing its work; and leaving! So another yes may do theirs. The default is violation: (outside home in water, work in movement) no home, no work is sacred; that embarrass you? get to work.

A social faux pas of avoiding things we are bad at: say no. Be loser left to be bad at something. Refuse the faux pas, grow exhausted from the work, snuggle up with all found in the fatigue.

You are quiet fire. I have tended house fire; I can tend your flame. What I refuse to do is start it. Planet is wrong, iron disc is right. But I like what I see in a planet. I honor what that invites.

Burning Questions