the deep garden
there are days, even weeks, wherein the objects of perception, even sounds and scents, linger on the fringes of consciousness, not associated with any cosmic proportion or particular meaningfulness; there are moments, even hours, wherein these same sensations are imbued with magical properties of interrelatedness and incomprehensable reason and logic. it is this second set of bits and pieces that brings my hands to a keyboard, pen or brush......it is this second level that calls ambiguously from the switching stations of thought and realization; that brings to focus attentions to the unexplored regions of frontal cortex and waylays the obfuscation of the primal nut from which it sprang. then, in a fraction of a second, the old lizard can spring from danger and, couching out of awareness, watch, unthinking, for the familiar sensations of millions of years, block the newer part and take control of both reason and perception....so i have ventured to trick the old reptile into ly