Living the art of (patterning)

We are the semi-conscious carriers of patterns. Those we can wield, with sentient mind, we can redeem. Those we cannot wield, we lose ourselves to.

When I use big words it’s because they are the right ones.
When I invent words, it’s because they are needed.
I’m not trying to sound smart. 
I’m not trying to make you feel any way with it.
I am curating words carefully.

And it matters to me. 
Because it is only the strength of the stories we tell 
the defines the strength of our movement.
That last statement, as with much I proclaim
is fractal: equally true at individual and collective scales.

And this is how I live my art. I am an artist and with that comes choosing the moments I’m in 
and 
My contributions.

Take these as contributions. Amendments.
If they don’t serve you that is fine. 
Leave them behind in the wake of creation.

Just know that who I am is not an attack, explicit or implicit, on who you are. 
My fully autonomous being is nevertheless juxtaposed
with who you are.

I am used to people having strong reactions to my presence because I am not just a seer I am also a teller. 

At my best I will tell what I see as artfully as you let me. 
These medicine forms may be for you to sample, to dose, or to douse yourself in. 
Or, your body may reject these, your soul finding them ill-blending. 
That is your karma and it is empty.

Yet I cannot live without re-creating our world and myself, without attempting to add lucidity, to raise sentience, to model fitness.
Some forms are more adaptive than others, more enduring across
profound environmental changes.

So live and let live, adopt my contributions if they stir resonance, if they shimmy beneath your skin like whirring cilia, and, 

please curate your own.