Natalie ask me to talk about when I had magical powers. I never had the magic that I have now, now that I feel and trust in myself. I feel and understand my tools and have slipped from the skin of the traditions of my craft. Maybe the magic doesn't affect all that stand in my presence. At times it looks like a blob a mess of streaks of light contorted slipping by the way of reason into a swirl of nothing. I realize my magic when I realize that the swirl of nothing was as much of me as the shot set on a tripod and thoughtfully composed and exposed. I have magic tools that enable me to take the ordinary, even the poorly composed and exposed the "so what" and work it into a thing of beauty, if not beauty at least a curious image to ponder. I am magical now, I have created other being stemmed from me steeped in my being and nurtured to hopefully be good people that is magic, that smile that hug stopping the crying when something hurts is not mere illusion but true magic. I have influence over the future and dominion in the present, even though often I fail to exercise such capacities.
"If we are awake, the whole world is shimmering and giving us guidance." Natalie Goldburg
Magic is being awake to the shimmering world even on a miserable damp morning when every thing is pissing us off.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Just write and it will come, whatever that is, whatever the thread we are to follow it will come if you just jump in don't look for it don't create it, it's already created. It's not waiting, it's in there it's out there, it's alive and you just have to grab on to it like fish in a stream you grab with bare hands slippery and elusive swimming away by instinct you grabbing out of impulse, splashing chaos. Maybe you have dinner, maybe you have slimmy hands and a glimpse of beauty in a flash of silver.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Doubt many reading this know wherre Denton Montana is. It's a speck of a town located just off the center of the state. A couple of bars a bank no stop lights only a couplke of blocks wide sourounded by endless fields of wheat. Cold and dusty I wish at this very moment that I was there. Face raw from the wind nose cold and waiting for the snow.