Step out of the quarantine of your mind. This is not about the double whammy of virus and deadly ignorance. This is about a brown vinyl couch and how it might be to sit down on it. To be so weary that you have no choice but to sit. To find after a few moments that it is one of the most comfortable places you have rested for days – and easily the worst smelling.
You have something in your pocket, your backpack, your purse. You pull it out. The sunlight – what time of day is it? – glows in the contents. You…
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Thank you, Naima Schuller, for your response to: Who Is Your Guide: Choose only one master — Nature —Rembrandt, painter and etcher
The seasons are my guide. I catalog and ponder the path of sun through the year as it relates to my bathtub – yes I still take baths, often ( as soon as the corporations that run this world curb their use of water, I will too) – If the sun shines directly into the water, all the better.
The daily seasons of waking, work/play/stupor, then winding down. The patterns created by nature, which are now not as stable as they were, are my guide. Monsoon season. Winter wet or dry. Spring with tiny green emergences. Summer with relentless heat – every year hotter. I ground into the empirical, revealed-to-me-in-real-life world
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