Browsing: Flicks at the Farm

Life is Kind That Way
By Amaya Gayle Gregory
It’s been an interesting evening. Well, it’s been like this for a while, but I am just now attempting to put words to it. Why? Because I can. That’s as close as I can get. It feels like I’m playing a game of Clue and polishing the pieces that have emerged, fascinated by them and aware that something has changed again. I can’t seem to garner any interest in doing, let alone thinking. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just what is. I feel more and more pixelated, like the space between pixels is expanding beyond its ability to reform in any knowable or meaningful shape. The understanding of what this is, of what we are, seems to be devouring the connective tissue, the ideas and threads that connected past and future, that set up the me and other structures of life. The need to do, the compassionate desire to change or fix or alter what is, the storehouse of wants is emptying out. This has happened before and passed, like all things, but this feels a bit different, more like a settling in, a wiping of the slate, than a drive-by. Read more→