green grass

<< Triad and Passage in Four Movements >>





Reality — realty sold as plots of discourses and recordable events; housing unstrung as auctioned bottled museum pieces of context without humans at its center; luring a viewing through a screen as a visitor from a free world into prison glass for a model citizen free from our reinterpreted lob-sided pasts; glimpsing while you belief not reflected; as what really is in your gut, across your street, in front your nose, at hands reach far beyond.

Actuality — actuators moved as mesmerisations and memories as agents of change and intricate feedback loops. All is full of change that actuates; Strung up as drying photos sequencing lynched hiatuses between snapshots on an agave sisalana; as music of pauses between chords, threading its way across space: nothing special (,) just sounds fancy; when bespoken as one; as what actually happens across your hall, taking action, baking cake, making it happen.

Sensuality — measuring the partially observable that what is is ruled, what is not ruled out; Vassals on the known land ploughing almost unnoticeably moving the edges and yet valuing vallus, wood-stakes and palisades and posting the acceptable known for what is at stake and none beyond; until as what sensibly can be prodded over your meal, mead with zeal; what can be shifted what can be kissed not entirely goodbye on soft lips of we have known you. Hug and measure the endorphins or dopamine of a past model with analgesic’d senses.

Liminality — fluidly moving becoming the step-up tripping to change intermingled; balancing the edge’s spaces left n right, top n bottom neither here nor there, within, without, yet process processed processes and then let them slip away, be as sand through the crevices between gentle fingers on a gentle fist back to the fold of grains and dunes; letting histories grow with winds in transiting minds, for they know they are past once a look, a listen, smell, touch, and oozed balance and coordinated fall has distracted them back into focus of seeing nothing, being transient yet becoming all.




—animasuri’24