i was not a lowly paper clip and some animal was the powerful magnet pulling me across the room. i think it has always been like this...animals have always been the very real masters of my existence and i am deeply content to be in their servitude. they are my living gods....maybe they are weak and not very powerful gods considering how victimized they are on this earth. but being godlike to me has nothing to do with power..it has to do with the light that shoots out from within them...animals have always illuminated the world i see.
that probably sounds a bit crazy...but never the less, it is the reality for me.
i have at times screamed out in frustration that they demand too much of me.
but here is the thing...that has always been a lie...they have never demanded one single thing (not including silly things like oreo cookies)...what i mean is..they have never insisted that i be anything other than who i am...they just accepted me as i was and absorbed whatever it was that i was offering.
i am sort of like alice except instead of getting accidently thru curiosity sucked down some hole into an acid induced wonderland...i stood before the whales mouth and asked him to please take me in and swallow me whole. and i have never wanted to go back to some other lost home again....inside their souls became my true home.
saints is run with my head...it has to be for us to survive. but saints can never be defined by the head because of the many communal hearts where it warmly resides.
when i think of spritely i see the warm liquid depths of her unending and bottomless soft brown eyes...they were the secret passage for me into the center of her life. my head can add up the thousands of dollars our hands worked to raise to care for her but it was my heart that felt the full true beauty of her as her copperly light shot from across that field and straight into my soul.
when my hands touch each side of ellie's beautiful face...they meld with her and become part of the majestic and gentle pig living inside.
as misty lowers her head and brings it close for my lips to meet the warm firmness of her sweet head, she opened the door to let me in for a brief moment of pure wonderousness.
you simply cannot define here by counting bodies and thinking of how to make it look good...saints is not like planning out a room renovation or decorating a shelter up prettily.
saints is about living and in order to feel here, your hands and eyes and heart must be in the same place, soft and warm and so small and pliable as you are gently drawn into larry's unending soul.
this is a personal place...it is a bit of a secret place where the beauty of those who abide here is waiting around the corner. you cannot think your way in...you cannot force your way in..you cannot imagine or pretend your way in....all you have to do is open the door and the saints will all very softly and gently come marching in to swallow you whole.
real gods can do that you know.