hinge

Actively lurking in my tentacular corner of the fediverse and a series of Discord servers in which the same avatars appear, it begins to feel like a movement between the places, like choosing a bar or a park, a space.

There is a palimpsest, an overlaying, tracing, interruption, interplay that can be tended to.

I've been reading Ursula K. Le Guin's Always Coming Home. It's stunning. The text is always returning to this idea of the hinge and the gyre. A joining of spaces, a working together and a coming apart.

Everest Pipkin's piece here, talks beautifully to online and offline spaces in which to be, the discarded concrete slabs

https://pioneerworks.org/broadcast/i-know-a-place-pipkin

which feels kin to this wandering.

lettuce, whose work and writing I seem to be encountering and thinking about a lot, posted this really thoughtful account of their time with different art collectives

//portal.mozz.us/gemini/gemini.ctrl-c.club/~lettuce/collectives.gmi

I've been trying to think about the collectives I've moved through, and the moments of togetherness and action they created. Here, where I am, things are opening up and gatherings are slowly returning. I'm not sure what my place is. I do know that it still feels necessary to show up. I'm building new nets now as well (part of my day job) putting together the elements for potential collectives. I often think that these online only spaces can act in the same way - and I'm sure they do in fact. Knowledge circulates, discussions happen, new things are made. Time is spent together. It's perhaps harder to see to the edges of the participants and where this circle of their life bleeds into others. (e.g. my parents or siblings often show up to local art shows - so folks there know multiple me's)

I'm re-reading, Donna Haraway's Staying with the Trouble which feels grounding.

Also, Viznut updated their text on permacomputing

http://viznut.fi/texts-en/permacomputing_update_2021.html

which I think makes a gyre with Le Guin's Always Coming Home - in which networked knowledge and communications survive through a tilde-like community and shared terminals.

I'm trying to find a route back to writing.