The spirit of the valley

... or the spirit of the strait ... or ...

Suddenly there was room for a stitchling from way back to hang next to one from last year.
Maybe not so strange, because today I have thought about times when the present folds into the past and thereby echoes the calling of the future.
A kind of ascultation with the ear against the earth...

The spirit of the valley never dies;
This is called the dark female.
The entry into the dark female
Is called the root of heaven and earth.
Tenuous, it seems as if it were there,
Yet use will never exhaust it

Tao Te Ching: Chapter 6
trans. by D.C. Lau & Sarah Allan (1982)
Ma Wang Tui Manuscripts

materialized

Happiness - when during dancing I notice that the simple circle dance choreography that I have created, is a rhytmic variant of one of my stitchlings...

when the image dissolves in the body
materialized

the inexhaustible desire of matter to multiply
matter that is consciousness seen from the outside
consciousness that is matter seen from the inside

poetry in motion

circle

cykle

Big sky above me, a river inside me

And I'm doubled up in love
Feels good it feels like poetry

Don't ask me to explain it just

Feels good, like poetry

I'm doubled up again

Dark moon gift giving

  
 

            
                                                                            
To Bring You My Love

THE Stitchling
Artemis, Queen Bee of Ephesus

 

Brings her love

I was borne in the desert

I been down for years
Jesus, come closer
I think my time is near

And I've traveled over
Dry earth and floods
hell and high water
To bring you my love

Climbed over mountains
Travelled the sea
Cast down off heaven
Cast down on my knees
I've laid with the devil
Cursed god above
Forsaken heaven
To bring you my love

To bring you my love

Slowly I marry her

Kärleken, logos, elden, hoan är alltid havande. En spricka, ett sår, en öppningsgest och förlossningen, in- och utkrängningen, sätts igång och bröllopet förbereds... slowly I married her slowly and bitterly married her love married her body, in boredom and joy slowly I came to her slow and resentfully came to her bed came to her table in hunger and habit came to be fed slowly I married her sanctioned by none with nobody’s blessings, in nobody’s name amid general warnings, amid general scorn came to her fragrance, my nostrils wide came to her greed with seed for a child years in the coming and years in retreat slowly I married her slowly I kneeled and now we are wounded so deep and so well that no one can hurt us except death itself and all through death’s dream I move with her lips the dream is a night but eternal the kiss and slowly I come to her slowly we shed the clothes of our doubting and slowly we wed Leonard Cohen - my favourite psychopomp