Clown Camp Connections
Pouring one out for the paradigm of presence in the past. Here here, to stories!
I am so grateful for writing; how it seals memories into a moment we can re-visit forevermore.
Storytelling is the most effortlessly embodied, potent piece of the human experience, knitted into everything we do. It is the yarn that weaves us all together, embedding time and emotion, purpose and the practice of being alive into the fabric of our awareness. It is the fascia of our affair with the physical realm.
As my final installment of the series of short stories I’ve shared with you over the past month (see parts 1, 2, & 3), here is a bit of writing in the shape of a poem, which I wrote as I worked to process, and stow away the treasure of, my dearest departure from my Summer at Dell’Arte, high key one of the most beautiful experiences of my life.
With this poem–which years later I seemingly can’t stop nibbling on, as it still seeks its final form–I am able to re-visit a most present and vital time in my life. By sharing this story with myself and with you, I affirm that it was real, every bit of it. The love I experienced for the world at this place in time was tremendous beyond measure, and how grateful I am for then-me to take on the task of trying to jot it down.
By honoring the glory of story, we create shelters to take haven in, working to not let the best bits of life be consumed by the traumas that arise day-to-day.
Thank you for reading my stories. For being a part of them. And thank you for living yours.
Clown Camp Connections
How did we ever get so lucky? Moments dipped in forever Three weeks of tandem mornings, instant coffee There for ourselves yet in absolute adoration of each other . Long before the river split our time I could have sworn your beads of sweat mixed with mine; weaving strings of us like spiderwebs into the sky Glistening love in the lust of pale moonlight . I choke on tears curled up in your backseat grasping for the smells and tastes and touches cemented in our history gilded with Earth’s gravity Landscapes fly by all I see is color The fabric of our lives now splashed with each other Western golds and Summer greens bookending a season of precious memories . Anything that has happened cannot un-happen Waters deep in togetherness, we swam Treasure we found in making songs Each sound offered in earnest All hearts present to play We opened the doors for completeness I felt my whole self just be with us Red noses like roses planting fields in eternity Our dreams dancing and twisting to form impossibilities . Squished closed, my lids take a breath Filled to the brim with sublime trust and effortlessness I open my eyes Find yours laying upon mine Swirling in wisdom Embodied divine Eyes to the road you reach back to hold me Fingers interlacing we appreciate our happening . Curious– how even a love so quick never dissipates The variance of what a soulmate makes The vast expanse of space that’s opened up in my heart-place You smile and throw, “Prologue!” over your shoulder as you drive away
A hui ho,
Julia
Maybe you are channeling the spirit of Dimitri.
That poem was truly, deeply beautiful. Thank you very much for your generosity in sharing.