Brim

The noise of intersect The chorus of chaos Entwined like lichen Weaving waves of pulse In horologist cry Bombarding senses Body keeps The noise Like an unwanted gift As pendulum swings And crowded trauma Seeps into memory Like mycelium And blade In equal measure The capacity breached The edge of brim Taught with tension

Lichens coat the bark surface of a felled Black locust log. (Robinia pseudoacacia)

2016 Nikon D60, 55-200mm Lens.

Photographed in situ, without the use of artificial lighting or staging. Photoshop only used for resizing.

1024x685 300dpi JPEG

Today is my 3rd anniversary on Tezos, within the fourth year in isolation, but a new beginning.

This past year has been a whirlwind of near constant compounding traumas, deaths and interwoven heartbreaks which has been enmeshed with the global horrors and the falling of an empire. I feel like a different person within my internal world. I have become something new, healing my own body and mind, being my own physician and my own advocate. I am alone, and have only myself to rely on to begin this new cycle.

I don't have time. But I'm still alive.

Tezos Anniversary - Year 3