I realized something amazing was happening to me. I found the reestablishment of order. Sometimes, in my head, I fly off and become a fantastic cyber shamaness and dream of glorious wonderworlds with wiggly trees and happy boulders. I realize that it’s important to document works never made. Ideas I  had then fleeted. I find myself wanting to write in stream of conciousness for a while and see what I create. I know I should have been doing this all my life, like a long Synechdoche New York. You know, where I can dream up a whole world for you to imagine. Should I begin? When does that idea become a solid? A liquid? I am in a dreamy space world where the harmonics drift up and down like a pulse… stirr it… liquid dreaming.

Okay. Why can’t we all be writers and share what’s happening? Do we not trust each other? Do we not bond with language? Broadcasted whale songs asking for help. For finding a dream that they thought they’d lost? I am a profound supporter of the creativity it takes to dream these things and the time spent there to create these works have an important undertaking.

I’ve given myself permission to write “stream of conciousness” or close to it in a series of blog posts called “My Now Life.”