Pepper, the Dwarf

If, but, in a day we age. When crafting these things (blog posts which feel to me so good like a remnant of an ancient culture in their form, "blogs") I've had already very approving and very disapproving connections with known and unknown folk around the good plump, moist earth. (Remembering that if there were a giant that could hold the earth in its palm, it would feel moist and smooth as compared, for example, to a ball of iron, like a musket, in a human palm which, while also feeling smooth, if inspected under magnification, contains pits and valleys that dwarf the earths counterparts in relative size). The dark themes are comfortable to me and such an obvious catharsis that it's most relieving to put some words to those pieces and send it to you, my worldly lover, hater and oft-unbeknownst head shrink in purple robes along primrose paths. With each blink in these past months I have memories of days both real and imagined, multi sensory ones filled with color and scents and sounds and tickles and emotions. The dark-themed catharsis-nog (a drink like eggnog) proves good company, to some. Then, just when the fingers have given up sifting through the glass dish of pistachio shells seeking a final morsel, one is found, and, with a rush of pleasure, popped salty and fresh into the waiting salivating mouth, there is love. The kindly proven monster that wraps its clingy tentacles around each fold of brain matter and pulls with the soft and steady force of gravity to the thumping convulsive, warm, oxygen-rich heart beneath with its impossible embrace. Love, like a manatee, fat and free, in warm, clean, salty sea, clear of all invasive blades and polluting foreign machines, there is love. Love undeniable and totally impractical. It covers entire valleys with its grasses and alpine flowers and clears disease like white thickets of cracked virgin garlic. There's also love, and of course, its power not to collude or conclude but to observe for goodness, heart over mind, hand over first. With a power so tremendous, at times, having taken this knowledge of experience in love as oil for water and night for day. I have even imagined ministering to the devil, for knowing what can be and knowing the dark mindful, lawful, force of love's complete opposite, forgetting evil as a nemesis, and forsaking warning and wisdom (wisdom for another day, one more day, one future day). That love, as promised, if acted in faith, that has the power to move a mountain upon asking, and, that tremendous impossible gift, again, upon asking, as just a mustard seed in scale (a giant with our world in its palm and Joy waiting to pounce upon its pitch).

Nam June Paik. “Piano Piece | Albright-Knox.” Albright Knox Museum, 1993, https://www.albrightknox.org/artworks/19939a-ii-piano-piece.