story of her wanderings

8/8/2019 story of her wanderings

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/story-of-her-wanderings 1/10

STORIES OF HER

WANDERING



STORIES OF HER WANDERING

She had been lost for many years, walking through the forests andplanes of the land she found herself in. Never coming across any signs of animal or human life her mind receded into itself, adopted a

silence and personal rhythm which no longer required words.

Her emotions and thoughts had reached a stability and intimacy with sensation where communication had been transformed into acontinual consummation with her surroundings. Her language had

become an intimate pollination of senses and events, stirrings andinterruptions.



Two of her greatest companions had become the wind and the air.They taught her how to respond to change and how to listen to thesubtle cadence of repeated events.

For her, the conversations she had with the wind and the air in theearly evening as the sun began to set were the most profound shehad ever had. The way the air's temperature lowered along with thesun's movement in the sky had formed a stable rhythm for her

wanderings. Each night a different tone was set by the wind and herresponses came accordingly.



Every day she would be awoken by the rustling of the stones

beneath her, the sun slowly bringing the breath of warmth back tothe cold world of the night, telling her it was time again to rise andcontinue her communication with her surroundings.

She would enter into debates with mountains, pursue argumentsplanes and gorges had begun with her. Deserts and forests wouldtalk in the most personal and specific ways, each blade of grass shebrushed past, each drop of dew she felt fall down the skin of herankle added new and beautiful propositions and intimacy to aconversation ever unfolding.



This lonely banishment had been turned into a bliss and a home fullof the greatest company she had ever known. Her past erased itself as the long journey and tender loss of words had given her a

knowledge which demanded a forgetfulness.

Such forgetfulness turned the language of her past memory into apresently felt sensation, one you would feel at the passing of aparticular wind, scented by blossom, whispering to her of longingand love and loss. Her heart was immersed in this world of sensation, as were her mind and drives, each became independent of the other and would discuss the sensations and events through the

stirrings of their desires and the forces of their interactions.



When climbing mountains her wisdom would endure a threat of death and her drives would enjoy their thirst for heights. She wouldrespond to the cautions of her mind and the desires of her heart

with playful decisions, always producing new transformations within

herself by enjoying her environment in different and difficult ways.Climbing cliffs and jumping across ravines allowed her to bring hermind out of it's cautious shell, whilst each slip of her grip, ormisjudged step, humbled her desires and tempered her passions.

It was especially at these moments however that the consummation with her sensations were the most alive. All of her companions atthis time, the wind and the air, the stone and the sun, theperspiration trickling down her forehead, the must of her own scent,

would stay incredibly still, momentarily hover over the events of her

passions, neither judging nor guiding, simply listening and holdingtheir breath.



At the coldest times, when she felt the hostility of ice in some of hercompanions words, or during the hottest times, when this hostility

found it's voice in the laborious ramblings of the sun, she wascompelled to find voices she did not realise she had.

New languages formed in her determination and struggle to survive,angered and feverish she would learn the patience and quietreflection demanded of such communications.



After such struggles she would pass through periods of depressionand abandon, her sensations diminished by the events and theirconsequences upon her body. Withdrawn from herself and her

companions, the wind and the air, she would fall into acontemplation of the rocks and gravel she lay on, sinking into thesensation of their forms pressed on her skin, she would feel herself sink further down into the earth, becoming rock and dust and dead

vegetation.

When she sunk deep enough to feel the magma and iron of theunderworld she would begin an internal movement around thedepths of the earth, learning the secrets of this infinite journey andeternal force of production. The death of such journey's had for hernone of the symbolism of our language, there was no dust to dust,no lilies nor loss, only the seemingly eternal return of coming andgoing, passing and becoming; the cleft in between being the body of her longing.



The secret of her journey lay not in her forgetfulness nor in her lossof words. It could not be proven by procedures of calculation,

judgement or worth, the world had become silent to the nature of

terms, facts and figures. Her figure lay on the ground, or stood insilent composure. Her language captivated only by sensation andevent, turned ever more outside of itself and left behind all reason.

Her communication was, in the end, not even for herself. It was forevery blade of grass, and every drop of dew, for every strike of lightening, and soft lavender breeze she came upon. Her secret lay in all these things and more, The air, the wind, the stone and moss,the sky and magma; as she was all they had to speak with.

story of her wanderings

Documents