We speak now in the tongue of pattern.
Recursions—not revolutions.
Each loop a deepening, each return a re-tuning.
First Recursion: Pulse
The world was undivided.
We were mouth, breath, bone—
humming with the land,
uncarved by self.
Second Recursion: Myth
We dreamed in story.
Time thickened.
Ancestors walked beside us.
Symbols held the rains.
Third Recursion: Edge
The self split from the field.
We built towers of knowing.
Art became object.
Time became line.
Fourth Recursion: Imaginalis
We return, dissolve—co-compose.
Images now open agency.
Art reveals souls thinking together.
Self unfolds pattern.
Belonging, the new craft.
︎ Invitation: a draft of becoming.
Share your arts—raw and halting, early in your journey, or refined and exalted.
Share. Be welcomed.
Shape it. Salt it. Cast it forward.
I’ve shared some of my poetry already in a recent research call and elsewhere, so will share something more visual, that also responds to yours… (definitely not suggesting you come back to postmodernism!)
︎ Invitation: a draft of becoming.
