Written Upon 1a

Female alto voice, violins, harp, techno, pulsing beats, layered vocals, flute, oboe

V5.5

Written Upon. You are at the navel of your passage, so you are always connected, body, mind, and spirit. Ink, gall, the Walnut ink of Listening. We wake to a new
day each time, so familiar and extremely strange at the
same time. We are inside the Mystery of what rotates us
into new positions. What we thought is so many times upstarted, and we catch up to its movement as quickly as we can. Days take oﬀ without us, if we do not go ahead and put that foot down onto the groundedness of our newest day. We thread ourselves forward, we reach for the needle and thread with the Red Thread, so that our Papered Awareness knows where we are and where we’re going. We pitch forward our Intent and make our way toward it. What we thought and what we gather are the bits and pieces of a much larger picture, one so large that there is no way you can contain yourself, you have to let yourself go, and become more. Under the foot of your own good self, you can resolve the ink written upon you, you can erase, you can write over, you can add to, you can divide and multiple yourself into all sorts of configurations, but you are always the Original
Writing first and foremost. Keeping up with yourself can be the most important work you do, and the creativity that comes with that endeavor is worth every penny of your vast holdings. Count your coins before they hatch, and you will have discovered the making of the curve. The round edge of discovery, the rolling coin that reaches
the curb, counts on you to come up heads. The lucky
position that takes something and turns it into another
something, a newness that matters enough to keep you. The ink, the type you are, the instrument of needled
position, the want that needs depiction, the inked ones,
the dye pict shun, those that were turned out, turned
away from, the Fey left holding the Bag, the Bag of
Runes. The Story-tellers that could remember their Original Pattern and could tell it in so many ways, the those who listened could begin to understand their own origins. Life-blood, the ink within us, we are written upon inside and out, and as we create we see our stories come to life in new and adventurous ways. We contain the full bottle of ink, we can draw upon ourselves the stories necessary, to carry a day forward from an inert stillness, to a wondrous telling. Waking up pulls back the covers and springs open the next wonderment, the next telling, the next creation and discovery. Counting out loud, humming, whistling, all fore-shadow the Listening lighting up the atmosphere, environment, and field, so that what you want can draw near. The Salt of your creating is marking you with the sound you carry inside yourself that connects you to all things, animate and inanimate, so that you can monitor where you are inside the habit of Being. The Red Thread opens up the pathway of thought, and you move forward into your own sight, seeing and witnessing your own desires through yourself and others. Taking the bead of yourself in your own hand, you count
the single number that then letters you across the page
of your Papered Awareness, so that as you awaken more
deeply, you can see more. Witness yourself witnessing, and see the larger picture of what you are becoming, it is you in form and function being more than just yourself, so that you are able to observe the Mystery’s Magic and relax into the hidden beneath of the above. The Face of each cell within us is written upon, giving information to the wisdom of the body. We incarnate at the whole written verse of precision and we locate ourselves in each letter and sound that informs from this state of this cellularity. We fold our menstrual circumference around each part
of our cellular awareness moving the familiar into Soul.
We require no distance, we require no time, cellular ease
is what we require in Presence. We are spoken for by our Soul, and the selves of our Soul, and the monumental presence of our Soul. We corrugate our fibers through the Listening of all the languages that our body needs, uses, assimilates, initiates, and confirms. We are now at the point of the process within the character of who we are, to begin to realize much more of what is. What is ready, what is not, what is longing, what is accelerating, what is following, what is knowing, what is feeling, and where all our inclinations respond from. We know we are speed, we know we are realization, and we know the accountment of the Ten of Ten. Parched is our purpose, longing is our way of travel, listening is our way of comfort, hearing is the language we reach for. The consequential reference of time is now moving more clearly into our recognitional resonalization volume of the period, the dot, the closure, the opener, the period, the flow, the Red Dot point of reference. The alert that is fired up for the attention of the need, the alert that is fired up for the position Intent. The alert that is motioned into the ever running thread of the pulse of our very own Intention.

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Written Upon. You are at the navel of your passage, so you are always connected, body, mind, and spirit. Ink, gall, the Walnut ink of Listening. We wake to a new day each time, so familiar and extremely strange at the same time. We are inside the Mystery of what rotates us into new positions. What we thought is so many times upstarted, and we catch up to its movement as quickly as we can. Days take oﬀ without us, if we do not go ahead and put that foot down onto the groundedness of our newest day. We thread ourselves forward, we reach for the needle and thread with the Red Thread, so that our Papered Awareness knows where we are and where we’re going. We pitch forward our Intent and make our way toward it. What we thought and what we gather are the bits and pieces of a much larger picture, one so large that there is no way you can contain yourself, you have to let yourself go, and become more. Under the foot of your own good self, you can resolve the ink written upon you, you can erase, you can write over, you can add to, you can divide and multiple yourself into all sorts of configurations, but you are always the Original Writing first and foremost. Keeping up with yourself can be the most important work you do, and the creativity that comes with that endeavor is worth every penny of your vast holdings. Count your coins before they hatch, and you will have discovered the making of the curve. The round edge of discovery, the rolling coin that reaches the curb, counts on you to come up heads. The lucky position that takes something and turns it into another something, a newness that matters enough to keep you. The ink, the type you are, the instrument of needled position, the want that needs depiction, the inked ones, the dye pict shun, those that were turned out, turned away from, the Fey left holding the Bag, the Bag of Runes. The Story-tellers that could remember their Original Pattern and could tell it in so many ways, the those who listened could begin to understand their own origins. Life-blood, the ink within us, we are written upon inside and out, and as we create we see our stories come to life in new and adventurous ways. We contain the full bottle of ink, we can draw upon ourselves the stories necessary, to carry a day forward from an inert stillness, to a wondrous telling. Waking up pulls back the covers and springs open the next wonderment, the next telling, the next creation and discovery. Counting out loud, humming, whistling, all fore-shadow the Listening lighting up the atmosphere, environment, and field, so that what you want can draw near. The Salt of your creating is marking you with the sound you carry inside yourself that connects you to all things, animate and inanimate, so that you can monitor where you are inside the habit of Being. The Red Thread opens up the pathway of thought, and you move forward into your own sight, seeing and witnessing your own desires through yourself and others. Taking the bead of yourself in your own hand, you count the single number that then letters you across the page of your Papered Awareness, so that as you awaken more deeply, you can see more. Witness yourself witnessing, and see the larger picture of what you are becoming, it is you in form and function being more than just yourself, so that you are able to observe the Mystery’s Magic and relax into the hidden beneath of the above. The Face of each cell within us is written upon, giving information to the wisdom of the body. We incarnate at the whole written verse of precision and we locate ourselves in each letter and sound that informs from this state of this cellularity. We fold our menstrual circumference around each part of our cellular awareness moving the familiar into Soul. We require no distance, we require no time, cellular ease is what we require in Presence. We are spoken for by our Soul, and the selves of our Soul, and the monumental presence of our Soul. We corrugate our fibers through the Listening of all the languages that our body needs, uses, assimilates, initiates, and confirms. We are now at the point of the process within the character of who we are, to begin to realize much more of what is. What is ready, what is not, what is longing, what is accelerating, what is following, what is knowing, what is feeling, and where all our inclinations respond from. We know we are speed, we know we are realization, and we know the accountment of the Ten of Ten. Parched is our purpose, longing is our way of travel, listening is our way of comfort, hearing is the language we reach for. The consequential reference of time is now moving more clearly into our recognitional resonalization volume of the period, the dot, the closure, the opener, the period, the flow, the Red Dot point of reference. The alert that is fired up for the attention of the need, the alert that is fired up for the position Intent. The alert that is motioned into the ever running thread of the pulse of our very own Intention.

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