24.4.20

so it's been raining a lot.

i always like rain but there have lately been fewer raging thunderstorms than i would like - the kind where the air is positively electric, and the sky is both dark and light, and one hides in a warm, well-lit place to watch tiny rushing rivers form in the grass and puddles well into pots of dirt.

no, these rains have been light and unceasing. gentle mists with varying pulses of intensity scattered across fields. my favorite part of rain in this season is what it does to the colors. already brilliant, flashes of new greens, yellows, pinks take on their fullest hue as they reach adulthood by feasting on sunlight. and the rain melts together these petals and leaves, budding shoots and tattered bark strips - a palette for the eyes to paint with.

i'm not the first to notice this phenomenon - it is well known that rainy days make for wonderful photographs, swirling inspiration for paintings. being a central shadowy figure both in and outside of this saturated landscape is quite a beloved experience for me. walking among the mossy, sodden ground, a light spring in each step - the great roaring stillness of the vast earthy surface is overlaid with a curtain of raindrops, faintly drumming. even the sonic landscape mixes the sounds differently - variables no longer dry and lain next to each other with their sharp edges, the air is a-hum with our shared experience of water and the nesting inside of wetness.


i encountered these beings whilst walking through the wet painting and as ever when i encounter wild life we sort of sized each other up from a distance with what felt like gentleness, an urgent curiosity. we passed by each other without much of a fuss but these moments always stretch the boundaries of time for me.

i think i'm always subconsciously looking for these moments, as they feel more close to whatever alive is supposed to mean  than does my normal state. of course, i am always alive - and it is wonderful to be breathing, to have a mind, etc... but then there is being alive, where you are even more aware than usual of this quality of having a consciousness, and it's an electric feeling. like the node in which you reside on the infinite fabric of reality shows itself to you, makes itself known, and you get a glimpse at a little bit more of what this experience really might be...

a shared experience of the elements with each other, with the other, with yourself.

'tis pretty neat.


with the global pandemic going on i encounter many less people when i go out. trudging through what feel like ruins i am always awash with thoughts on the beingness of the structure which surrounds me, and i think i've had enough. the enjoyment of conjecture has its limits and i must say i have long since reached them.

this much is absolutely true - that i will be miserable if i try to measure myself by anyone else's parameters. 

it is said that the concept of self (and concept of concepts, too, really) is a source of suffering, but i have yet to figure out how to transcend an experience of self and reach pure experience. it is said that having a mind hurts a little bit, and that meditation is a way to sort of neutralize the pain of consciousness by sitting with it and accepting it. these are things that i have yet to sort through fully but i want to keep meditating on them until i come to my own understanding.

ciao~

 雨

cat power - "say" (moon pix, 1998)


joanna brouk - "going through the veil - becoming a swan" (hearing music, 2016)



caroline polachek - "ocean of tears" (pang, 2019)



modest mouse - "gravity rides everything" (the moon & antarctica, 2000)



HTRK - venus in leo, 2019