I am constantly leaving and continuously arriving, floating atop this spatial transit while analyzing the resultant temporal perceptions. I roll through reality as if I’m on a bus in the city, sentiently gazing out the window; lazily participating as the absolute witness of the All. Curiously watching the mysterious interactions that are endlessly unfolding on the streets before me. Making panoramic eye contact with the world, noticing the solemn and tattered man as he graciously accepts a cigarette from a bystander, tracking a duo of crows as they briskly flock from the thinning trees to join their murderous jury atop the phone lines, I sit silently becoming the audience of audiences. As I let the world pass by, I carefully catch each rendered emotion as it slowly sways past like a feather falling from some overhead fowl. I study each one as it comes, appreciating the feelings induced, categorizing it’s spectrum of hues, weighing it’s organic structure, performing a thorough evaluation of it’s inherent meaning,and saving it to use as a quill later on during my ride. I’ll turn to the blank sheets of tree skins bound by entwined hemp, dab the spine of this sentiment with ink and jot down descriptions of the goosebumps and shudders that the feather initially gave me as it brushed past my being.
