I read the word felled and fell in love immediately.
Prior to finding this gorgeous word in a poem, I had never gifted a fall the linguistic freedom to transform to felled, feller or felling. My overbearing sense of hearing had never allowed it to be seen, tasted, smelled or touched beyond it’s logical syntax.
I am quite sure I have been felled many times – knocked out, struck down, cut out – we all have. I am more interested in the moves it takes to become un-felled.
Negative theology has been on my mind and has led me to the concept of –un. To discover my unfelled self, I will have to explore all the things I am not. I will have to discern the blurriness of my being, and I will have to open the dichotomy of my own heart.
Most importantly, I will have to resist my attachment to life’s grammar.
Until March 2,