Spring Rounds

The adoration of the earth

One month ago I was weeping, I was saying things between cries, I was saying: Last Spring I felt the beauty of everything bursting from within me, Weep, Last Spring I felt penetrated by witnessing bees pollinate the Colimbines, Weep, Last Spring I felt the dull ache of the storm clouds approaching. Weep. And this Spring I feel So Close, but Away from it all. Weep. This Spring it does not touch me.

But then I read my notes from last year, and I had said:

“To be surrounded by hills and the air of coming Spring is painful. Beauty so close and sneering”

Spring Rounds.

I am fine now, because Stravinsky saved me from the illusions of my own memory.

Stravinsky tried to compose music that would bring us back into the Livingness of Spring, he tried to allow echoes of the primeval to ramble into his Rite of Spring, to imagine what the Adoration of the Earth would sound like. And what he achieved is music that sounds like a city, like horns, wheels, chimneys, shouts, exhausts, engines, collisions, cranes, concrete. Thats what the Rite sounds like. Stravinsky listened to the earth, but all he could reply was the sound of machines.

When the chaos of the Rite falls away, the music becomes a lamentation. A Funeral for our Earthboundness shattered by Machines. Shattered? Or Trapped? “The beauty is so close and sneering” and my response is through this writing, through a piece of machinery, connecting me to a network of other machines. But..somehow I feel, more than ever, that as I drain the Earth of petroleum gas and precious minerals to drive around in my little machine and use my little devices, I am more connected to Her, the earth, than ever. Feeding at the chest of the Mother/Matrix.

Did you know? Magic and Machinery are exactly the same. It just depends on whether Time means calls out, commands of us, “Inevitability!!” Or “Efficiency!!” Human history has been drumming along with Sacrifices, the sacrifice of Potentiality as Payment, so that we can continue in Spring Rounds. So the rain comes again, and I can forget that I felt exactly the same last year.

Human blood was once sacrificed to the God of Inevitability, a human life turned into triumphant waste product.

Human potentiality, human capability, human work, human agency, is sacrificed to the God of Efficiency. And his children are all the machines, These Devices (think of that word!) that do all the work we created, we potentially could do ourselves. For efficiency. A Waste of potentiality In order for nothing to go to waste.

Do you see what I mean? Do you know? That getting a machine to do work is sacrificing your own capability. It's inefficient to make a blood sacrifice, but to make a sacrifice of agency ignores Inevitability. What Time are you saving? You're going to do this all again anyway, and you'll forget how it was last time.