A Letter of Yearning Light – Friday Fictioneers 1-17-2014

On January 17, 2014 By NW FilbertIn Art, Experimenctes, Writing19 Comments

It mingles as I tarry here. Fence and branches joining what they distinguish. From here to there I yearn. Details all so near. In my reaching they grow hazy. I long for you. I follow. I wander. Toward you? From me? Out beyond?

There was a time. It’s lost its focus. Forward, back, I cannot tell. I am here. A something-is divides us. Even as it joins. I reach across. I feel you back. And yet.

Yet not. The moony sun illuminates. Draws attention. Drawing all the lines connecting us, all the angles between.

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Many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and Erin Leary‘s image

for the continuous and faithful prompts to compose 100 words

responding to instigating images and the Friday Fictioneers participants

An Example of Structuring – Priorities

On September 1, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Current Reading, Journallings2 Comments

1. Family

2. School

3. Prioritization of Personal Pursuits

Structural Prioritization of Readings: Fall 2013

(please click on image for display)

8th segment

On August 20, 2013August 19, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Experimenctes5 Comments

’cause I don’t have to stop. ’cause it doesn’t.

And now “I” am different, again. Change. Is how I would “put it.” What with the whip of atoms calling “I” ever-coupling to the Itself that the “I” calls “world,” really, when one gets down to it, in it (always), the distance is elusive (is “illusion”). And so “I” changes at the rate of the wind “I” is sharing; of the sea “I” is seeing; of the matter (volatile shivering).

It is Here. We are. Since we cannot claim a territory, we strain for modes to re-fer (de-fer?). Differ. We’re attuned to it. The rhythm of our tune is differance. There is no reason that suffices. We are in it. It.

A live.

In vocalizing, movement sounds (for humans). Or in gesture – perceptible matter (always suited to the version capable). It is always a matter of moving around, shuffling space with time. I cry, there is movement. The air and the chemical sea. I look – things displace, replace, are placed by my gaze – an interactive mechanism – part of a NEVER discontinuous train.

We touch, because sound, because cell, because particles and waves (as both) – because movement. Because “separate” is an aberrant traction (abs-traction). A practical folly.

I love you – re-cognition that borders are empty, margins erased. That “you” and “I” intersperse (wind, sea, light) molecules. Movement. Alive. I love a live.

Because live doesn’t noun an “f.” Life. Life is a period, an arbitrary stop. Imposed. But a “v” simply vibrates. We are a-live. We are the living. Even the “the” can’t contain it. It rushes the punctual, overcomes it. We are us and I love you (us).

Perhaps we need little realms to find out. To discover. Acting networks to re-member (to sew, to put back together) what’s dismembered convention. “The way it is” – what we’re impressed to “get by” (“survive”).

This, It, is NOT the survival of fittest, a live is the fittest and cannot be dismembered, “I’s” just being particled Lifes – and those not really – except in that most human of ways (itself a “not really” invented by us). It is more complex than that (call it “what’s live” or Enaction), and can’t be reduced to its “parts.”

Nor combined in a “whole” (another punctuated word). It’s not final, complete, but just changing (rates of wind, of sea of weather; of stones and planets, emotions and plants) – if we could dissect it (and we try) the variation of paces “seem” astounding…but It’s chock full of seams like two sides of paper – not different but same save the semes that are perceptible.

These semes are intended for motion: I love you. My so-called chapters and segments to “say” – we are us, there’s no other, and we’ve little idea of that.

“I” lean back, am exhausted, and rest (always moving). “I” don’t see the difference in sleep.

Experience, anyway. Coupling. (section 5)

On July 29, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Experimenctes, WritingLeave a comment

Couplings

We conferred, that is, we engage, experiencing contact.

We will set out, clinging, and submerge in, together. To gather, to keep hold. To track and trace in the tracing of trackings. To recognize with(-ness). To witness with-ness. As experiment – critical. Experience, anyway. “Ours.”

Between the quark and the jaguar, we leap in, already moving. Enduring much criticism: stop-motion behavior/practice. A snipping tool. We move on.

Must have been moving before we begin, different organization, as also (ever “also,” both/and) until “we” is spoken, still speaking. In other words.

If complexity allows purpose, however shallowly combined – moment-airy radiant gradient – if selection involved “choice” (in other words), so we. So-viet. Co-Be=”It.”

We continue beginning potentials. Experience. Anyway, any way at all, even those unimagined per se – potentially – given contexts (complexes before and beyond) to speak spatially (corrupted language: co-ruptured, erupting-together). “Always more than one,” our simple mantra. Breathe. Walk.

Early ones (to speak temporally, parler temporellement, another language) tout “the world knows not boundary.” Perceptual divisor, arbitrary (i.e. species-specific) and then some. Or boundary as invented in traversal, trespass, complex thoroughfare, reciprocity. Feed-forward in a sort of randomness, chaos emerging orders.

We blend thus to cognize. We merge to pattern difference. Another way of saying “no boundary” (i.e. engagement, interactivity, living, being). To couple.

Beginning again in infinite multiplicity (our limited numeracy) – were we able to count even to we.

click here to read Experience, anyway. in its current entirety

We are Registry

On July 25, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Experimenctes, Photography, Writing6 Comments

Friday Fictioneers, July 26, 2013

Between you and me, of myriad conduits, the others. We set out. Toward. Send messages made of signs and symbols, ripples, waves – our gestures. We move. Where we are. It resonates. When you touch down and look in my direction, molecules dither, there is some concord. Generation. Gravitation. I do not believe in “flow,” or that everything is One. You set out, we are in relation. Things pull, things press. Hearing dribbles in the brain and puddles. Echoes something else. I am here. I will be. I set out. Between the myriad conduits and air, water, fire. We breathe. We become a ground. We register.

N Filbert 2013

Summertime

On July 3, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Journallings, Music, Reflections8 Comments

In our realm, Summer busies – schedules, rituals and rhythms deconstruct and a verve of freedom and compulsion arises in our children. And there are vacations and visitors and spontaneous events. The weather withers me, people are drawn to the outside, in all – Summer discomforts me.

And yet…this week expect the visits of my wife’s twin, her aunt, and a long-time friend and his family, AND we’ll celebrate these dear twins birthday with wild national hoopla (July 4 – precious to me because she entered the world, but I’m happy to have help in the celebrating at this level!).

What gathers and whispers…or shouts and plays…runs and claps…talks and snuggles…HOME…those precious to us, invaluable, incalculable,

Yesterday eve we were enjoying a particularly (abnormal) gentle, cool Kansas Summer eve on our porch and listening to the music of Keith Kenniff – placed here as a celebration of Summer’s affordances – dislocated time, gatherings, visitations and travels – favorites – family, friends, nests…

Keith Kenniff – Branches

Happy Fathers Day

On June 16, 2013June 16, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Journallings1 Comment

To all of you out there loving, protecting, nurturing, listening, comforting, engaging and delighting in your children:

HAPPY FATHERS DAY!!!

which, as my wife’s card to me pointed out, cannot be incoincidentally unjumbled into:

HE FARTS! HAPPY DAY!!

oh the gifts and joys a good father offers!

and the unmeasurable joy and delight brought a man by fathering.

Never Good With Numbers – 24 May 2013 – Friday Fictioneers

On May 24, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Experimenctes, Writing10 Comments

knee-jerk response trying to coax the writing machine within, thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and Friday Fictioneers community

I was never good with numbers.

I meant, I intended, I felt the pressing need to say, to clarify. But I was never good with numbers. At least to specify, remonstrate, apologize, perhaps even to confess. Certainly profess, express remorse, plead a little, cry. I wanted you to know. So many things. How you struck me, thudded through, infiltrated, saturated, overwhelmed. How I craved and believed. What I dreamt.

But I was never good with numbers.

The Return

On May 22, 2013May 22, 2013 By NW FilbertIn Current Reading, JournallingsLeave a comment

Within the hallowed halls of Powell’s Books in Portland, OR with a next-to-nothing budget is not an easy thing to be for book-cravers. But it also picques the selectional impulse somewhere thrumming in our genetic bands. Survival of the “fittest” given current conditions and some self-observation through excruciating choice.