Incredible on this sunday that this human would take the time to walk in front of us and let our family of fish watch him behind the glass. The blue tint that surrounds him is our blanket – we’re going to have to show this race of beings what it is to be alive. We knew they have it in them – one day they might have the sense to watch us and understand how to exist.
I don’t quite understand the homes you have built, but if you like, please, have your architects come and explore the physics of how I live.
Over here as well, we can teach as class in growth. It’s the patience, after all, that allows for final product. Thing is, I can only teach them for so long – they have cut me and placed me in the middle of their homes to watch – perhaps I can show them structure – they just might stop for a moment and explore my stems instead of only sniffing my petals.
They want to be happy and enjoy – look at the characters they create for themselves – watching their imaginations live the life they so crave. It’s amazing – they are living outside of their skin, gathering elements and trying to put them in enclosures. Strange, they think they are outside of the glass. Who is being watched?
It is not until they are forced to stop that they realize the moments of the step – the inhale, the rub of a fingertip, are the essential movements and joys of the world. When we bend, the bones inside all work together to make it possible. It is all so possible if you realize it. They are realizing now – through the sharing of each of these rooms. We know the smell. Recognition.
Indeed – look how they do it – how they express what exists beneath the chest and just over their hearts. The images they capture and show to the rest of the world as if they were mutes unable to say the word “Love” without turning away. A look in the eyes of the person next to you without shaking. You can reach out – they won’t turn away. The humans, they ARE reaching, but they refuse touch. For now, it will have to be art.
Amazing though how they express themselves – building and assembling matter to house and warm. I am looking at them now and trying to show them – me, here, inside the lamppost. When’s the last time you looked at what was allowing you to see? You’ve constructed me, so please, take time to observe. There’s nothing wrong with just sitting and watching – I’ll be glad to teach by being still. Usually works the best.
Yes – yes, you are understanding more. No need to cut or manicure us here. Our grows is the beauty. Even with this coming of a new season, the wind is allowing for us to stretch and move in ways we’ve neglected for this past winter. Can you accept there is no set pattern for our growth? If so, you’ll understand there are no restrictions on your ability to understand what it means to be your HUMAN self.
No there, play. I’ll sit here and show you how to appreciate the sounds. Music has that way to connect. I’m here, at your feet, listening. Without my ears, there would be no reflection of your actions. Understanding has very little to do with language. From this living room in Columbus, Ohio, we are given the ability not to speak. A guitar string is universal.
Now we’re breaking through. This teacher here on the right has found a human willing to listen and cave in on their Sunday Morning and hug us. We’re looking for love, for touch, for a breakthrough in communication beyond what they have in their schools. So much can be learned on a Sunday. All of you, everyone who is reading these words, has created a page in the lesson plan. Are you proud of your creation?
I am the bow, in case you were looking for who was reading this chapter. Holding on to these flowers that were given in one moment and forgotten the next. There is this perfect light here in Sheffield, so I decided to wrap myself around this creature and hold it until life fades away. I’ll remember the weight of this moment. The image is one you’ve created. How many sides are their to this perspective? We’re learning from so many teachers now..
Here, inside the wrapper, exists the flavors you’ve been seeking when you hold your tongue out to the rain. It’s the taste of anticipation that draws us all in – up against the window, all the students are pressed up, waiting to see your reaction. They taste with you.
You may be looking at the road, but it’s in the cracks that the mistakes we made lay heavy in our path. The echo in that canyon, call to us. Even the bladed of grass running perfect on the side of cement bow down – hunched so that you are able to understand your past. Hard to look both ways when moving forward – something very unhuman.
Inside the bottle, little pills are dancing around – waiting to be digested and seep into your bloodstream – waiting to work. To serve their purpose. “Can you see your humanity even in that,” one of the pills ask. “I believe all of you, outside of the twisted cap, are waiting to serve your purpose as well. Is that enough – beyond just being?”
Upside down, even, it’s quite a show. I’m this one piece of cereal stuck together to create a structure, and we’re all wondering – all of us who are stuck together, why you’ve decided to build a castle. We believe, and we’re okay with what we’re seeing, that you humans create what you want. We’d like to know if your imagination is strong enough to carry your desires into reality. We believe so. We believe it’s happening now.
We’ve rescued this piece from your silencing machines – when you lay down on us, we create your bed, but do you think about each one – standing, planted in soil – how long it’s taken for us to make it to the surface. Our birth, shorter than yours. The object we’re holding here was meant to silence your youngest so that your oldest could have a bit more peace. How incredible that concept is.
And when you grow up, look at what you create. What you leave behind. What becomes useless. We’ll try to clean it for you, but think about storage – without that space, we’re going to take away plots of land. More of you humans are going to be moved from where you live so that piles such as these can exist. There is no thought to where it all ends up. Perhaps there will be.
What is and what once was.
As a child, you drew pictures in the sand washed away by waves – here, you look to purchase. There is a disconnection that we are trying to erase.
Now, NOW, with the clouds moving, I can see you, Humans, working. Moving house to house and making sure the holes and spaces created by this long winter don’t leave any damage. You have this in you. Those who have been reading these stories are knocking on doors and making sure your neighbor is as well as you are. It’s working.
It’s all happening here to some extent, though your comedy shows, I don’t understand. There is that feeling of laughter and joy that seems to mix with tears and reset the sun so that it may reflect over whatever ocean you happen to be looking out over – even if it exists deep within your belly. It cools the burning despite the salt.
We know, we know this week the lesson is a bit long and heavy, but life is like that on many of its journeys. Please, sit. They’ve prepared a meal for you in Scotland – The four potatoes on the top of the plate don’t mind if they’re consumed. They were grown to do that. Again, their destiny has been fulfilled. Have you thanked them though for the sacrifice they’ve made to end up on your plate?
Souls. Cooled. Water beneath. You’ve been waiting for months to sit together and look out over the world. Those of us in this story, we’re looking just over your shoulder, slightly, as to not interrupt your moment. How sublime – we’re remember this part of the world as a place we know humans must exists. Love – it’s what bring us from under the covers each day.
In Mexico City, word spreads about the ability to dangle feet off the dock. We’ll put on some Otis Redding and feel what life should be like. In the bedroom just under the sunrise, eyes are opening. “Who’s going to make the coffee?”
Homes everywhere are being told of this air conditioning that exists under the soles of our feet – the vines that spread over the walls act as telephone wires to deliver the messages we do desperately need to hear. Not just hear, but listen. Everyone, it’s time to go to the docks and understand this world we’re trying to move through.
Concentrating, we can defy physics. “Nothing is written.”
Now then – look at how you’re treating the oceans that have allowed us to sail through them.
A rest for the pair of glasses that has taken time to take in word that will digest and, we hope, spread out again into the world. We can only learn through stories not of ourselves – then, it’s known what makes up DNA – in reflection we can see. Still, you humans, its’ fun to watch you create machines to understand yourselves. You are, we think, evolving well. Keep it up.
Of course, what we create, we being the earth, the views we give you – the clouds on which you dream to lay down on – here, lay down on this field and dream of laying on the clouds. Get lost within impossibilities so that you can make them real.
If you go inside, you’ll see that we have closed the libraries. You’re going to have to read each other – unfold the mysteries of the one standing next to you by diving into each of their senses and exploring. Breathe in what they exhale.
When you do, you’ll see the magnificence in the non-movement. On how, when breathing is paces, we are all in rhythm, and a chant of sorts rises up from our collective. Our dreams can string together in narrative. Indeed.
Over in Manilla, they looked out onto the dock in Philly and mirrored the movements of the feet above the water – these body parts interlocking and seeping into each other’s flesh. Chapters now exist on how this is done. You’ve created them – all of you have written a page, that makes the chapter, that creates the book, that tells the story. Our story.
No city has claimed this picture, but it’s one that we should all live by. Buried under air trapped by material we’ve taken from the earth and constructed, two more feel stick out – not quite ready to dangle off a dock, but they are training. They are training us as well, to learn from their ability to roll around on the floor and forget who is looking. It is, however, important that we watch.
Over in South Africa, we are given these headsets to plug into the world and listen to the station that makes the most sense to us. Understand – it’s the fact that the music out there even exists that’s important, not the results of the composition. We’re dancing. Please, take the hand of the person next to you and move out to the main dance floor. Our cards are filling up.
Our second picture from the Philippines this week shows us, again, that what exists inside of our minds, can live externally. We are greeted with each movement of our imagination. Take those old children’s books out of storage and start reading again – they’ll provide you with a map.
Now, take it the map and move to the rooftops – see if you can notice what’s universal in understanding. Jump over the spaces that separate and believe that you’ll make it to the next structure. You’ve build all of them – inside of your DNA exists the ability to bend laws. There’s no hesitation in this leap – as you can see from this story, the world is jumping with you. Hands are held despite the sweat in palms. Grip.
Victory. Inside the faces, inside the blur of movement, we exist in this moment. “We are all winning” – Frank O’hara
The joy, this moment, here, exists inside the lips of each of us. Each story teller want this to be their tale – and it is. It has to be. We share the connections of this ride on a rooftop. The flag is all of ours – wrap yourself in this victory.
You’ve changed the world again. Human.