The Familiar Turn
9/8/2024 coffee, breathwork, sit, breakfast - repeat
A Familiar Turn Con/Jur/d, 9/8/2024 The dream house architecture differed from the usual return home the dream home, the belonging home the real home, not the one we must leave, the one we must discover again and again, everytime questions life and death are differentiated everywhere, everyone whose division is between sickness and health or between body and continuance when we forget, we wear the world in all its manifestations, and when we forget, aging is the trauma and squeezing reverse of birth S L O W E D down so we can feel it like those long ago, Aikido rolls on the good carpet, bought carefully and with the appropriated status semiotics for that particular fold in time, by our parents before their return to the homeless home the one without geolocation, an architectonics of absence, and we felt good and strong none of the aches and pains, systemic failings of the day before bed we didn't want to wake up, to the worries, remain here, tucked in and tumbling across black/white synthetic fibers, an abstract fleur-de-lis THE SUN CALLS the immense pinprick of light flickering in the fundament through the cracks in the foundation and we strolled, casual, cool without the hitch of mortality into the garage now with the kind of pull-down door favored then by fleeing urbanites on both ends one leads to the road the other to the backyard both have their attendant risks and disruptions, calling out: Come see what is happening! making the familiar turn we woke to this day this poem, this home we share, together.
More later today much love,
Con/Jur/d, 9/8/2024