Friday, January 22, 2016


And so in the natural progression of deconstruction, we've finally come to the burn part. New day, new song. Don't ask if you can read a page on the way to the flames. It won't be permitted. We're past the point of no return and there is not looking back ~ not even out of curiosity.

Do I feel lighter yet? I'm not sure. I did not begin this work lightly, didn't take it lightly. And yet, it really isn't a big deal. The preciousness left long since while ripping, tearing, and punching. Pretty paper with words waiting to become something else or immolated. Feed, fodder, fire nourishment.

There are some things I've observed about burning paper. It burns hot and fast. It doesn't burn well if neatly piled. It needs some moving around to insure complete immolation. Never leave a word behind. Be clear on what's being done because there's no undoing it. At least humans have cellular memory back-up.

Now. Onto those hardbound editions . . .

What burns so easily.

My Yes To This Moment.

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