Yo Maine

When you live in a city, greatly removed from nature you may
feel the need to look up the symbology of an insect if it lands on you
and
when you live in the country, in the nature (In IT), you would never be able to
find the time to look up all that symbology...of the hairless caterpiller
who crossed your path twice, the twenty separate ones with hair who found themselves on your hand, in your hair, your neck, a coat hanging in the greenhouse as you walk past...additionally, it would be extraneous since out here, in the country, in the midst of nature doing her thang, symbology has merged perfectly with literal reality and everyday becomes an infinity of pixels ever adjusting, connected and interdependent on you and one another and all the questions they ask in the city, here,  you can't utter them, not only would they sound silly but they have been answered, silently before you can urge your voice box forth.

Somehow, without meaning to, I've ended up exactly where I need to be.
A spiritualist said to look closer at Blueberries and to go to France. She also said I'd be working on a farm, with lots of time to make art.
Watching the food grow here in Eastern Maine is opening my eyes to so much magic, so many other worlds all around me.

I am deep in love with life.

On election day when some are hustling to the poles to put in their vote I guess I'll be working as hard and efficient as possible, harvesting, planting, building, maintaining, in other words, I'll vote with my acts.