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Its honeysuckle time here--a vine that twines up from under hedges and in the leaf swollen woods. You don't go to it like a beautiful flower, the wind carries its scent to your senses; the heady sweet invisible.
Walking late in soft wind, moonlight and shadows from new leaves--the honey suckled air from unseen vines reminds me how scent is presence in absence.
How so much of human love is presence held within us, the mystery, the soulfulness, the words, our thoughts and attention; held "in regards towards" another person outside us. Even if that person is in the room: family, friend, your lover gorged on like fruit... inside us we hold what outside has a life of its own, and yet wafts through our inner rooms, a fragrance to us. Mystery uncoiled from its coil. Linked by thought and time, care and love.
In Japan, a honeysuckle represents "devoted affection," commonly referring to young fated lovers.
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Kiki Smith at MOMA here --great site with much video and lots of images--click around in it.
More Kiki Smith --small video fragments (its like standing in the wind and ...), here, and here, and here.
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The emotor: Tim Hawkinson ...
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Dylan Thomas audio: Do not go gently.
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Happy mothers day to you all... male and female alike--I think we are all each other's mothers; we who love and listen and just be patient with each other. We help give birth to each other's dreams, sanity, wisdom and gentleness. My mother taught me this. (All of them) (One) (The One).
Thanks for your wonderful comments, for sharing your rusty nail experiences, too. I loved them all.
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