Dangerous Compassions

the words under the words, trike ecstacy, who formed warm hot

I never understood Klondike bars.  My parents had them a lot.  I was like, what’s the point?  If you want ice cream, have ice cream.  Who needs chocolate coating.  Or squarishness!  Or the foil-coated wrapper!

Then someone came over to our house bringing two six packs of Klondike bars, for a potluck, and he left them here, both unopened, I think.  We were like, what do we do with these?

I guess I’d never had one?  I was like, hmm, this is delicious!

Something I considered silly was their size.  I see now–the pre-portioning is nice.  You don’t have to think about how much Klondike bar to eat, really.   The unit is one.

Why am I talking about this?  I guess to avoid talking about something else.  It can be that way.

I mentioned the other day to a friend how conversation, my favorite thing can be listening to the words under the words.  I also like the eye contact, if any.

My friend and I were in the courtyard, a couple weeks ago.  He was giving me some money advice.  At the end, he said something like, “I hope that was helpful.”

I was like, “I like the sound of your voice, and that you care enough to want to help.”  I didn’t really need what he said, in a way.

“You could be telling me about different models of dishwasher machines or reciting the declaration of independence.  I would love it, friend, because I love you.”

His voice is like a salve.  Like if he just talked to me enough, my soul would heal from some brokenness I didn’t even know it had.

You probably think that sounds crazy.  Well, I also decided that if fishing and surfing can be spiritual practices, so can riding my trike.

Yes, it’s getting absorbed in the activity.   I think it’s the bliss.  Trike ecstacy.   When the ecstacy gets so good it’s spiritual.  We are no longer ordinary people–we turn into bike gods, trike gods.

Lately I’ve been making atcs.  It’s good for me, the art, letting myself make whatever I want within this small, non-intimidating format.

What art would I make, if I was making art? I wondered.  Well, it’s a way to learn about myself.  What part of my mind is thinking about I didn’t even know existed.

This naked multi-Kali is called “who formed warm hot.”

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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