a pacific northwest drip...

I live with many free thinking, free spirited, patriotically challenged, religiously void life-jesters here in and around the delta, scattered in-between the tributaries of the Skagit, peppering the hillsides, or burrowed into micro valleys. They are my friends; spirits entwined, layered, and folded within this realm where aboriginal and Norse lore meld amongst the mists sent inland by salted surges.

Under low-canopies of moistures dense with nourishment, we sing songs of reason; songs of desire, songs of collaboration, cohabitation, and cooperation. Our instruments are stringed, syringed, brushed, molded, sewed, welded, and micro-processed; polished and presented for critique. We all ask the same questions, “Do you see what I see?” “Do you feel what I feel?” “Is anyone out there?”

We are armored anti-warriors, equipped with the courage of dissent. Yet the pressures are intense, pulling and pushing, the art of persuasion lost, and replaced with agendas manipulated for maximum leverage and profit. We exist to interrupt the shepherd and give the sheep a reason to blink with a cerebral tweak here, and a visual imprint there; alternative non-absolutes dosed out with spoonfuls of diverse multiples void of exclusion.

I’m going to stay here for awhile.