My Breath is My Autobiography

Light between the trees / 2020 / Photo by RCS

What I’m doing has never been done before and couldn’t be done again. Living my life at this exact historical point in time. The path I walk, this teacup I drink from, no one has moved along or tasted before. Our world is made anew daily, individually and collectively. And it becomes madness anew with everyday news of global wars, horrific violence, and authoritarian madness. Collectively, we long for peace within our hearts, and want it to roll on across the world cleansing brutal hearts of hatred. The longing for peace is as old as humanity’s first breath. My breath is my autobiography. I’m constructing a tale of nostril and lung, in flow with flesh and blood, arms, chest, feet, legs – walking and seeing the city come to life around me, moving this warm body through chilly morning air. Walking for relief, release, recreation, and transportation. My mind’s always trying to make sense of what’s near at hand and halfway around this spinning globe – dizzy with love and war, renewal and entropy, lovemaking and tears falling, and the ongoing killing of the innocents. Breath forms words, is waking motion, is how I tell me to you after a long night’s dreaming. Being with you I become more of who I never would’ve become otherwise. Each action, each incident, every notated feeling and idea, is growing and alive. Here we are, looking upward into the slow-moving clouds. Seen through naked late winter branches. Each of us breathing words out loud, and bringing the world into being.