til you get to the core

self-portrait (upside-down) in a puddle, a few weeks ago, 112st & 80th ave, i think.

I interrupt my thesis-writing to post this: the little film for the song Wanderlust, by Björk.

I am leaving this harbour

Giving urban a farewell

Its habitants seem too keen on God

I cannot stomach their rights and wrong

I have lost my origin

And I don't want to find it again

Rather sailing into nature's laws

And be held by ocean's paws

Oh, Björk, how you delight & terrify me! Travelling downriver on the backs of lovely felted musk oxen in what looks to be Greenland, escaping your stagnant harbour only to find there is an old mud-woman in your packsack, who wants to wrestle... because she is all the self, all the ancestors you wished to leave behind... & the river spirit, rising up in front of you, mountainous, looking like a Southeast Asian lion dancer, carving new channels with its brilliant paws, guiding you into... & oh the ending! Snapping at the straps of my heart. Because this is all magic, & I - I just get it. Beautiful.

Wanderlust

Relentlessly craving wanderlust

Peel off the layers

Until you get to the core