Wednesday, February 4, 2015


"This whole world is feeling contractions. The fabric of our lives is stretching and pulling as the thing inside it breathes and reaches for it's only imagined freedom. The air is thinner and the atmosphere is yielding to tiny holes that let escape the moans and fits of this secret young.

The world beyond tightens it's grip of sticky elastic tendrils and fights to keep its own. To keep its own safe from us. Our numbers and our facts, our logic and our reason would suck the ether from the lungs of such a thing. The tiny world we inhabit would topple to one side under the weight of this infant thing. Few living things would have the sense it takes to even perceive the thing the tendrils hold.

Though once we were enough for these wonders to walk among. Once we had not only sight but vision. Once we squinted less and saw with our whole being. We knew to breathe the ether back into its place in the world, to let it work it's wonders for other things that visit. We used to be generous and less afraid like that. We could sit around and warm ourselves and listen to tales from other tribes to make our stories make sense and fit with theirs. And we used to know how to let go of a thing when it's usefulness had gone and not before. We held no scorn for the old ways or things or people. We simply made way.

So here now are the contractions coming again and I witness them alone save a murder of crows. The crows don't care, they only wait and watch for who lives and who dies and leaves them a meal. I care. My soft heart and sense of self preservation through collective well being forces me to love you enough to warn you. This beast is on its way. I've seen it's waking shadow come before it lurking in the alleys and now the physical world is shaking and convulsing before the labor.

Remember the old ways and practice your forgotten senses. You will need them when he arrives."
            -from the journal of Jean Baptiste of Mattapan Ma.

Jean Baptiste has been journalling about this creature he swears he sees in the streets and shadows of the city. I have no idea how he can see it before it is made and born. This only reinforces the feeling that this is real and actual.  I wonder how many others feel and catch glimpses of it.

Progress is coming along and he is directing his own creation- of course. Stay tuned for updates and sonograms.


  1. The origin story. The forgotten beasts are coming to life. What stories will they tell us?

    1. Stay tuned for more! Illustrations to come!