September 2021

9.1.2021

	Intellect on a date with intuition
9.2.2021

	Following the shifting contours of the day
9.3.2021

	Mosquitos swarming from flooded ruts gorging on blood function as needles sewing strands of DNA into the food chain
9.4.2021

	Roots in the ground and petals to the sky
9.5.2021

	Two things fitting together in an unpredictable way
9.6.2021

	Sunny days with a crisp edge - autumn making her presence felt
9.7.2021

9.8.2021

	Inflection point
9.9.2021

	Into the fold
9.10.2021

	Separation of Earth and sky
9.11.2021

	Tipping point
9.12.2021

	Clear day late summer
9.13.2021

	Night catching up to day
9.14.2021

	Built on transience
9.15.2021

	Emerging or enmeshed?
9.16.2021

	Waking up under a pile
9.17.2021

9.18.2021

9.19.2021

9.20.2021

9.21.2021

9.22.2021

9.23.2021

9.24.2021

	The insect is asking for another story.
9.25.2021

This story is easy to tell because it only involves saying what is happening in this moment and allowing all the threads to weave the scene. Mostly the story is about being: being here, being now, being cool, colorful, together, anxious, rational, strong, weak, passive, indifferent, and constantly accumulating stimulus, irritation, pleasure, and desire while everything cascades into a sustained chord called me. And so here I am, a fountain of words.

9.26.2021

Once upon a time, an expanded entity felt fear, wanted to move, reached a limit, and instinctively tried to strengthen its center. This story begins with contraction, clamming up, protecting, concentrating, gathering together, accreting, becoming smaller, shorter, tighter, resting at the end of an inhaled breath, fetal position, eyes closed, attention on one point. A story like this could last a billion years, beyond space, outside of time, open until the contraction starts and the world begins. Or this kind of tale might be over in a picosecond, as fast as an electron orbital decay, the speed of a photon, the fusion of hydrogen; all that energy in a single spot giving rise to everything else in a bang. Materials are all around us, unorganized, chaotic, natural, and we wait with anticipation to see what will emerge.

9.27.2021

Expansion follows contraction like inhale follows exhale. Our cyclical story repeats with no beginning or end. Where do we start? With our memories? Our earliest self reflection? We were alive before that. Conception? We didn't emerge into a vacuum. The atoms and energy that make up our bodies came from somewhere and that came from somewhere and all the way back it goes; same never ending chain into the future, too. What breaks up this seamless circular background? A few details grounded in the moment: the light above me is humming, the air is colder as autumn asserts herself, the rain smells like New Orleans, and the inner hole grows larger by the day.

9.28.2021

I am an emergent property of informational flow, I am multitudes in motion, I am what persists. My story is dynamic, page after page, accumulating, being read, and filtered away. I continually drop new data into hungry minds that, just as quickly, forget it all. You may be waiting for names, places, actions, descriptions, all sorts of amusing details and I will give you those as a way to ground the story and concretize the concepts but please keep in mind that the main character, me, is meta.

9.29.2021

	Meta musings from our meta character: Wishing to know itself, flow divides Flow encountering flow arises. Arising flow manifests a universe and precipitates material. Material combines, separates, interacts, forms structures, contracts, expands, concentrates, ignites, and dissolves. Structure houses flow, is directed by flow, and is made of flow.
9.30.2021