Input, Process, Output
Before I was a teenager in 1999, I had a Xanga. It was where the world of blogging began for me, and at that age, it allowed me a place to put my thoughts, feelings, and share them with others. Sure, the majority of the people I interacted with on this new fangled platform were the same people I saw daily in school, but it was this new space we all had. To share. Our own space at an age when it all felt on the brink of spilling.
I've decided that is what this space should be- a journal. (Duh-doy, right?)
Not a space that needs to look like anyone else's.
Not a space that needs to be just about the weavings.
A space about the ecosystem from which the weavings belong to.
The ecosystem of my life.
So nothing is wasted and stagnant.
A kind of permaculture approach to journaling.
Both within ourselves and outside our selves.
I see now this journal is my micro ecosystem spiraling out into our macro ecosystem.
That's where you are, dear Reader.
As much a integral part of the Input, Process, Output stages we all move within.
The ecology of our gardens and natural world: Input
You as an audience member: Output
So, if those are our universal stages, why not begin to include them all here? It feels like the right move. The best way to serve myself and fellow humans. You. The monumental need to move in tandem within and with others.
To see the whole picture instead of one aspect.
Think: when someone in traffic pulls out in a dangerous rush, instead of waiting for 2 seconds more to pull out in a larger space within traffic. Endangering no one.
To shine a light on that I see no difference between someone's interest in a commissioned weaving, and the buzzing pollinators that greet me when I go outside.
It's about time to connect with those three simple steps: Input, Process, Output.
I'll write more on this tomorrow.
Now that it has a name, I will add to it daily as a living journal.
I'm a weaver. What better way to serve than to do just that.
Anon, dear Reader. Until tomorrow.
And always here if you want me, flowing in the in-betweens.
PS- no ads. no Instagram. Artivism.
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Existential Reckoning by Puscifer
'How does one choose words so magical?
They terminate or alleviate this morbid despair you feel
I don't know what incantation
What psalm or mantra you will hear