african bliss for bohemian mermaids here you will find: my mind, lost in time linguistic trance-lations of dance, epic mom-ents mosquito net placements and i bet some cosmic revelations inspired by zulu nations

exchanging words for ever

GHANA | Wednesday, 11 April 2007 | Views [1881] | Comments [4]

please, tell me if you've been here. i want to know, if you've travelled through my wor(l)ds or journeyed on your own. i hardly know who you are, if you have visited this site regularly or avoided it until now. share. exchange bits of your mind with mine. share. tell me if you are inspired or terrified or beautified, or maybe you are totally unmoved by my retellings. tellme. tell me that i am not imaginary, that this life is not some divinely invented dream. tell me that you know i exist, that you remember me, that you know me or want to know me or wish we'd never met. tell me what you love to hear or criticise the way i write. how can a chef go on cooking if there are no mouths to feed? tell me, are you out there and are you hungry? how can an artist create in the dark, if the eyes of the beholder are invisible or closed? tell me, can you see me from over there?

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Comments

1

ive never been to ghana- what youre smelling is my heat - i am alone with words spun from ether- this much at least we share- words are powerful- say them and magic always happen- speaking is more powerful than writting- only speaking and touch can remind the beauracrat of you heart that love gave it an office- "i hardly know who you are" and thats perfectly normal, if you want it to be- ive never been here before- I like to enter when invited- ".share." im excited- I dreamed a world once, and awoke to this, wars and famines and hungry ghosts cries but refused to let go of dreams awakening- and now dreams are realized beyond sleeping- ".share." stories are all made up, telling is not living- and you are imaginary, visionary, imagery shimmering light from around the world- I will tell you "this life is some divinely invented dream." we are the lucky ones born in the fifth and six realm of the dharmas turning- cherish your life, tell me a story,ive heard yuur words in real life, I can hear the voice in you writting- show me a sun that shines on the other side of the planet when I am sleeping. I wont critique the words you write- unless invited, but its so unlike me, my preference is to shine the light into vast emptiness in search of distant planets- set a course for a lodestar and fly- I am hungry, so I will read your words with relish - thats why I subscribe to so many blogs by souls behind keys and pens- to feed my inner fires with spirit sharing- just yesterday i felt like a star with no planets, what use is the light? but somewhere, in the distance, beyond what my sphere can percieve- ill tell this to you, keep writing, keep shining, someone is watching and grateful for your light

deston

deston Apr 12, 2007 2:39 AM

2

Faithful writing one,

It must be another synchronous gift that this morning, when you are crying out into cyberspace, 'are you there? am I here?,' is when I first visit this amazing record of your travels. I have only read as far back as February so far, and I will read on, but first...

hello! you word wondered strong hearted willing generous creature. I love you to the end of all worlds. Whenever I read your fine spun words, they weave dreams before my eyes which inspire fantasies of times future when we shall travel together in creation of who knows what.

But my present loves call me back from such dreaming, and I plant my visions of Lis and Heather, another seed in my rows of beans and carrots. Yes! Santyosa Street's urban homestead is becoming. The beds are laid, the cedar paths wind through, and the chickens are growing visibly under a heat lamp in the basement. At the end of May, then, come to my house, and I will feed you fresh eggs and draw you a bath with fresh herbs, and oil your prodigal skin. Ha! And it will be all the more precious to eat of the earth because it is reclaimed from lawns and vacations, and it is eager to answer our call, and feed us again.

Your words. Your life! What you are doing, on faith, giving yourself that which you dreamed, and unfurling wildly into it, is beautiful. And when I read of your colors, rhythms, textures, tastes, and smells I love what I behold, and most of all how I feel as if I am getting to glimpse how your eyes, friend, are being made, how your feet are changing as they conform to the lands they walk, how your heart's yearnings are soaring and swimming in the skies and waters of Africa... How you are being made over and over again, as we all are, but, you, in such vivid clarity. In such stark truth.

Bless you. I look with love to the day we get to bike all over Portland on our own domestic adventures, and perhaps to the San Jauns, and perhaps on storytelling quests wherever they take us, and perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

Sing a song for my dreams tonight.

Chala!
You polish my diamonds,

Heather

Heather Beckett Apr 12, 2007 2:40 AM

3

I see you now.
Hear your heart screaming, really.
I'm in love with the side-ways picture
and the poems and stories of your adventures.
Can't wait for the adventures of my own. India, this winter. thank you for your dreams in syllables.
XOXO
Mateo

Mateo Oasis Apr 12, 2007 6:11 AM

4

wow, i dream about you coming home, and blam!!! I get it! I don't know if I can one-up the bath with fresh herbs and oils, but I am incredibly excited to welcome you back to this precious earth. I love your words and your desire to share with all of us, and I can't wait for it to happen in person.

Lately I have been munching on dandelion and rosemary blossoms, licorice fern root, and oso plum leaf. and sipping nettle tea, warming my heart so that you have a cozy place to return to. we are all blessed to have each other.

love,
laura

Laura Apr 12, 2007 6:11 AM