Musings: That which has been infolded coming undone, unraveling - ten thousand things spontaneously. Hidden behind the veil of time, put on display in convolving ephemerality. Catching sight of the force that compels all, from immanent to transcendent, and back again - a processes’ journey, becoming flesh. No sooner born, then relegated to remembrance. Borrowed from the realm of being and non-being, memories, which shape this form, yet seem to perpetually inhabit a new self. Those borrowed from the ten thousand things: these vague recollections of a willing participant in the dance of entropy - nostalgia from a supernova - or those of a cog in a great concentration, some collective inhalation: the stringing of a spiders’ web, the sprouting of some Amazon, the songs of virile Wood Thrushes - all of which, converge, to bring a realization in the present moment, a reverence for those moments past, and an anticipation for a reunion of the two, reconciled into one.
