Cave Art

Cave art: 

really, it's just cave art, my own markings on a page wall for no greater purpose than to show my existence here, that I left a few words just to note my presence. Writing is such a lovely ritual, so personal, whatever inspiration channeled through to mind then fingers. All art is this way, an artist belonging to something so much larger than their mind can hold, aching to express it and knowing that a certain failure will always follow. 

yet still it's held in awe.

cave art wasn't just descriptive, not only a record of hunt and daily harvest - it was a call to this largeness, an invocation to mystery in a plea for continued inspiration. This is what fueled the hunt and aided every battle, not for survival alone, but to know their presence mattered.

my writing matters to me, it's my own inner conversation brought forth and marked across a page. It's cave art, primitive, and left behind on these modern walls of social media and other means of sharing. My daily harvest is for words, phrases of my own understanding of the world. I invoke mystery with ritual too, early, before the sunrise, these quite hours of devotion. This is when I most truly listen, joined by deep stillness in allowing each note of morning sound to reach me on its own. There's nothing to strive for, words arrive freely or silence is enjoyed. No choice here, no difference split between two, it's all simply presence, hushed, holy...

and with this, 

writing follows. 

~

Peace, Eric