She ploughs her cloud storage for photos of her soft sculptures, and captioned them here, so to avoid talking about things on her mind that not yet has a safe container.
***
I intended to write, and did. But I don’t trust myself spellchecking. I might, as I’ve always, delete everything that makes me cringe because the body still remembers.
Mr Lunarian says I’m a very happy person. Reading my own words gives me a different impression. When writing, I must be thinking, and doing nothing but writing or editing.
Sometimes I think about doing, sometimes think as I do, but happiest when I do without thinking. Like a kid lost in play. I don’t think most of the time, I think (!).
If you were to watch a playback of an imaginary surveillance of my home, you’d see me running around non stop fiddling with something, anything, all-day-long. A kid at play.
And, doing, I did much more before we flew back here. And, while doing and after doing, I remember, but only sometimes, to take a photo to remind myself of what was done. Because doing makes no room for thinking or remembering.
Today the thinking part of me is on strike. I’ll dig through the cloud and show you photos the way acquaintances who run out of conversation show each other photos of their children neither are interested in.
***
Show, don’t tell
Root people grown from the scrappiest scraps.
A bear possibly tap dancing, don’t need arms for that until they learn a more complex move.
A duck and a chicken.
Glutinous rice balls in red bean paste (not a beakie). A meditating bird called ripples. No arms no legs. Eyes dangling from the knot of a face.
Outside my place. A sausage dog passed by. A magpie passed by.
Latest this week. A small blob sitting on a big blob sitting on the table.
***
It’s been many weeks since I’ve been back here, and a few more before I leave again. Everything is still shifting under my feet and inside my heart. I’m doing what my body is able to support me in doing. There has been many more false starts than even the usual. All that it is teaches me to refrain from belittling my own effort. Given the conditions, it is difficult enough as it is. I’ll need to trust myself as a vehicle to bring something/ someone to life, as is required by love of our world.
***
If you’re new here,
I thank the universe for creating this opportunity of contact. And you for having scrolled down. I write this letter to celebrate the numerous little things that make up the big things that together we call life. If you like this vibe please subscribe, and share, because sharing needs sharing.
If you’re not new here,
I say hey you where have you been all my life? Oh just above the rock under which I’ve hidden. Thanks for giving me room to breathe.
***
Hi I’m Marn (noisybeak.com). I turn unwanted clothes into soft sculptures animals (aka beakies) and they teach me something about being a person. This letter is a way to share the spirit to survive and thrive, because otherwise why the hell did I go through all that for?