thinking in maps of horizons.

Written as a part of the writers’ circle, meeting 4;inspired by the prompt:"now the horizon is clear, fire has swept it all away, one small bird, comes home." from the book Wild Mercy i think in scalable representations of the many dimensionsin which the world makes no sense to me.correction (active voice for my english… Continue reading thinking in maps of horizons.

state of play

Written as a part of the writers' circle, meeting 2; inspired by the prompt: "what is this playing that you do while you hide your intelligent self" from a Rumi poem | 19 April, 2021 i am still only learning to play. make believe. ghar ghar. war war. office office. future future.the future that i… Continue reading state of play

grieving meaning

been sitting with a lot of grief lately.not as much my own, but just grief in general.reading eulogy after obituary after dedicationimagining the conversations that remain incomplete in our world todaysomehow made simultaneously more trivial and more significantby the abandon of meaning in our worlds today. on some days, desperate for a sliver of sensefulness,i… Continue reading grieving meaning

Us. Within our rhythms.

We take our circumstances and beliefs, and find our choices within. You, to the best of your ability, slightly enchanted by your needs of the moment. Me, to the best of mine, finding my way amidst the sea of my wishes. We, dancing our moves through this stage full of improvisers, occasionally swinging together. Organising… Continue reading Us. Within our rhythms.

The piece about pieces

  I spend my days collecting pieces to make up my world and trying to piece them together Meticulously, with childlike curiosity for meaning-making I try and try, finding the fit, as closely as I can And then I draw over them intricate patterns, with my schemas There are some patches Where the meaning is… Continue reading The piece about pieces