An unfinished exploratorium
of the ecstatic
the eyes see pranic
the tummy try panic
the mind says havoc
the breath says antic.
I have decided to commit myself to designing. For every structure must be a reason, a purpose. Below is the beginning the RNA of a new structure entitled:
Milk, sand + sugar: a Warm Invitation to be Held…
He said break my heart. A warriors heart is tender, a warriors heart is not safe from sound. A sound being a carrier of pressure a means of displacement, knocking, touching, rolling, and caressing you from your place of comfort. Comfort, in this case, a place to hide from darkness.
Mother. I calk forth mother and nurturing father. Light and darkness , void and what is known. Milk, sand + sugar. If you find yourself in this replica of a hug from them that cherish thier children and my interpretation of what it looks like. Built, crafted, arisen from what comes in visions and lighted by flames of inspiration. Then you have touched or witnessed being held. I am one past puberty and embrace tantra. Flow, organic, nurture, love making, relax., and dreaming meets releasing, cleansing, vulnerability, and trust. This is the blended stew suckling on creativities portion of milk. Ancient as sand, stimulated by sugar.
_ Suddenly designing structures meant confessing its intention and why it would be beautiful to have the living erected