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Yesterday I finally got round to recycling everything I’d ever written since the age of 15. Bad and better poetry, diaries, travelogues, going nowhere essays etc. The paradox is that I began writing again today. When Ben asked for a submission I submitted.
Like all of us, who I am is a little uncertain. I know, of course, that I am more or less me: my fingers type these words, your fingers turn the page. But even ‘we’ are in dialogue. As the Buddhists say, we’re co-arising.
Whether or not this interests you is not entirely out of my control. If I choose my words carefully, if I create a space for empathy, if I imagine myself reading these words once they’ve been written and published, then perhaps I can step across the boundary and become for us an interested reader. If I fail to sustain your interest, well, there’s nothing more ‘we’ can do.
Two thoughts come to mind. 1. Duchamp: solicit nothing. 2. the phrase ‘without thinking’ – which references Dōgen.
Having written the above, I add this image:
I add it for you because this zine is an ‘art’ zine. I add it for me because I have always been interested by these ‘empty’ images.
Looking out of the window I see a lawn strewn with dandelions. Yesterday my partner pulled the head off every dandelion she could see. Today I count 31 new dandelions on the lawn.