I write in a field and medium that doesn’t exist yet. But you’ll see the results later, because the field that doesn’t exist yet, and in which I am writing, is in the extended cogniscium of the species. It’s in nature. It’s in us.

And as I am writing it is emerging, so, in effect, I am writing it into emergence like a poet singing the dawn’s resurgence. It is not that my song raises the sun from the abyss of night… for what mortal could claim such station?

But rather that, in singing, the sun’s due rise finds dearest celebration, and in such finding gains new ways and means of rising, shining, being, knowing, and seeing. To write in the dead books is well understood. To write in the sources of writing is where we are going. I’ll see you there. I’ve got a little table, near an absolutely -ancient- tree.