Enigma

~

Rooted in the Greek word for riddle

I steady myself

in the middle of the stream

So much rain

my toes search for purchase

as I move along in the strong current

~

But I’ll not wander in the side eddies

where the slickest algae

coats the surface of the stones still idling there

passing time as if singular

feigning reflection

~

An intoxicated accumulation

of over fertilized organic matter

girdling themselves

as if they could hold on to the ground

~

My days have been emptying

full of the feeling that I’m living in two separate realities

~

More than a waiting game

too much hard evidence

~

Carrying a pack that needs to be cleaned out

and made into a traveling case of essentials

fit for traveling in even faster flowing water

~

I’ve been carrying these stones around with me for decades. The one with the impressed shells is from the Northwest Pacific coast and was gifted to me. Its partner once dwelled further south, somewhere along the coast by Half Moon Bay, south of San Francisco.

They traveled with me when I returned to the waters of the east coast, after my sojourn with the Pacific.  The stones always hold a corner of one of my gardens, along with a bowl of water for the critters and birds.

The poem inserted into the photo arrived out of the blue, as many poems tend to do. It came as a puzzle and I chuckled as I considered who it could be referring to.

That is until…. could it possibly be “water”?  And partner with the poem “Enigma”?

~

Poems and photo © Jana White

Instagram @ Jana_H_White

Dengue Diary

~

Becoming

~

Even substance

can not slow to definition

The holiness

of momentum

~

Weather

~

It’s called the “Bone Crusher”.

At the end of 2019 and five days into a month long artist residency in Mexico, I fell into a deep viral vortex known as dengue fever. As the virus rummaged through my physiology, the microscopic mutants concentrated in my skull. My brain swelled with a pain so focused that I couldn’t open my eyes and for days I lost all sense of whether it was day or night.

All I remember of this time is literally having no other choice but to surrender to the pain. Finally, within this weird dark place I “saw” what I remember as an image of the archetype of Mary, which I held on to with the thought that perhaps I wasn’t being swallowed whole afterall.

Shortly after the pain subsided, and other than the bones in my head being tender and my lungs congested, I slowly re-entered the day to day world of the rest of the residency.

The canvasses I had prepped were all ready and hanging on my working wall. My paints were arranged on the table, but I found that I could not tolerate color! Light also bothered me and I was unable to look at a phone or computer screen without feeling some internal wires were being crossed. My original intentions disrupted, I sketched instead in black and white trying to express the experience and make something of the residency.

Even more disconcerting was how it felt simply inhabiting space. When walking there was the feeling of riding up and down an elevator. For months afterwards I would have to stop to steady and ground myself….in a panic. Since this feeling was this side of actual dizziness or vertigo, it took months to understand my eustachian tubes had been permanently altered. Finally allergy testing confirmed this and also that my body remained on high alert. I continually exhibited allergic reactions, and I became a human barometer of weather and environmental and seasonal changes. It took years to convince my neurology that neither hard wood trees, nor a new weather front, would upend me.

I was finding that I was having to come into perceptual relationship with everything around me…in a deeper way. This relationship wasn’t a new experience. I had been relying on nature for a sense of wonder and relationship, but also emotional regulation, since a child old enough to wander alone in the wildness of it. This is where I found true beauty in the rhythms of life, sometimes death, and learned to trust change.

Considering the archetypal image of Mary that I saw during my dengue episode? It has become clear to me that this was the Earth herself….in one unbroken seam.

~

Drawings by Jana White ©

Instagram @ Jana_h_White

TELEGRAM

 

START …. Hello! …. STOP …. I am away scouting on the dark side of the mountain …. STOP …. It is very crowded …. STOP …. The temptation initially was to blend in …. STOP…. Thought I was traveling light but immediately became snagged in my own underbrush …. STOP …. Continuing on now but have had to leave my pack and all supplies behind …. STOP …. Night and day do not divide here …. STOP …. So far dreaming has been easier than trying to see in the dark …. STOP …. Something I wrote once has become useful …. STOP ….. “I don’t need eyes to hear light”…. STOP…. Listening now for sonic blooms  of  light …. STOP …. I can see I’ll be offline for awhile …. STOP …. It is good to know you beautiful people are all here being creative …. STOP….. Sending my love, Jana  …. FULL STOP

 

Enigma

075396999d1c8e472355b7002bd1066c~

Rooted in the Greek word for “riddle”

I steady myself

in the middle of the stream

So much rain

I wish I’d worn back straps on my flip flops

standing in the strong current

but

 I’ll not wander in the side eddies

where the slickest algae

coats the surface of the stones

still idling there

passing time as if singular

feigning reflection

 an intoxicated accumulation

of over fertilized organic matter

 girdling themselves

as if they could hold on to the ground

~

My days have been emptying

full of the feeling that I’m living

in two separate realities

  More than a waiting game

too much hard evidence

A pack that needs to be cleaned out

and made into a traveling case of essentials

fit for lifting off and moving

in even faster flowing water.

~

~

photo credit: Russell Tomlin Flickr

~

Ouroboros

ouroboros

~

I don’t fear melting into this earth.

 Each morning

I wake into the air

I do not rise      I do not move

I do not open my eyes

until my nose has sensed persuasion

my tongue has tasted sweetness

and my ears have heard the world

~

I was a child with dreams of becoming

Now I am older with dreams of being

~

Transformed

Nothing and everything is changing.

I am like a snake shedding its skin

and

biting its tail

~

erasing  the lines

of time

~

Opening

Mountain

that yearns

to be a flower

learns

the ephemeral language

of

beginnings

         “””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””'”””””””””””””””””””””””

import 1 007            

”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

Painting by © J H White