From 11/7/13
She sat. She sat and waited. She sat and waited and wondered.
She mostly wondered about love.
She wondered where she was right about love and where she was wrong.
She wondered about love after 45.
She wondered about deep cellular loving connection to the earth, to gravity, to the trees, to the leaves.
She wondered about it all being a dream and proceeded to interpret her life that way.
She wondered about it all being explained by studies and statistics and surveys.
She wondered about flow and stillness versus sludge and stuckness.
She wondered about how to discount what was real in favor of what she was told.
She wondered about the truth of her experience versus the truth of your experience.
Sometimes they meet. Sometimes they don’t.
Often when they don’t we declare war.
She wondered if there was something else we could declare.
Declare dance.
Declare song.
Declare rolling around in the leaves.
Declare a dip in the lake.
Declare ice cream time.
Declare walking the dog.
Declare pie.
Declare laughter.
Declare solemn agreement at the strangeness of this being in the world together and not ever having the same experience even as similar as they are.
She wondered and wondered. As she sat.
How can it be. She wondered. What a stupid phrase.
A phrase, in writing, a series of words put together.
A phrase, in dancing, a series of movements put together.
A gesture, a step, a dip and swirl and then, a phrase.
Can a written phrase have a gesture?
Can a written phrase have a pacing that ranges from slow and low to high and fast?
Can a written phrase stop in its tracks and heave its chest gasping for air?
Can a written phrase drop to the floor and crawl?
Can a written phrase jump, turn, stand on its hands, roll onto its butt, stand up, swirl its arm around?
Can it? Can it?
Can it. Stop writing. Stop talking. Stop filming. Stop everything. Can it.
Can it? Can it. Can it!
What does a question mark look like danced?
What does a period look like danced?
What does an exclamation mark look like danced?
Do those things want to be danced?
Should those things be danced?
Is there any should in dance?
What is the dancing should?
What is the dancing should not?
If my writing brings out emotion is it wrong?
What is right?
She’s wondering and writing. A lot.
She has wondered and written a lot into the this page. This machine. This day. Already. She is thankful, joyful, excited to have gotten the chance to write and write despite the dog, the boy, the man, the morning, the stuff and the stuff and more stuff and all the stuff. The world and gestures and writing and dancing and such and such and such. Amen.
I’m writing. She is I. I am she.
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