sunlight and paintings: these things hang around me- nothing to be proud of or ashamed. and what makes these things different? and not so different than the others? (to conclude at the beginning.)

judgment and the valuation made us within and without. we made those things and spaces. i did, and so did you. like a muscle, flexed from birth and beyond birth on either side. a mother speaks to (not at) her child in the womb- her womb.

we the relational- relationships between this value and that value- or around them. sometimes hierarchical, sometimes horizontal, sometimes a chimera or a chicken. we are and also know value. but that we are and know at all! here is value- or was and will be.

a system arises (to be found) or is formed (to be used). these two are the same system. though not so much a system as it is a pile stacked of this and that shit, hobbled together bits and pieces- not so unified or unilateral as we might like to think though oneness none the less.

all of this by nature is: humanity. but this is not all of humanity. so to say: humanity is not all this. but more importantly, humanity is not all of "it".

i have always been one to create. maybe i was born this way, but i was certainly educated in this way. edges are not on the edge once they are thought of as edges. think of a russian doll of two; neither ending on the inside (forever littler ones making their predecessors the larger ones). think also of frailty, faulty lines, and a failure to communicate.

i trust myself above all else. not only that, but i think i trust myself above all else- i know i trust myself above all else. not so much myself as my own. i think i know about my own myself. not so much my own as what i've known: myself the others in myself. and this is what i trust.

i speak of that which was not me to begin with, the cobblestones that make up what is mine in this "it". "it" was never what "it" was supposed to be. the moment "it" is what "it" is supposed to be it ceases to be "it"- or the supposing stops being supposed. suppose-

and all of this was funny. quite funny. hilarious, in fact! funny because we found ourselves surprisingly comfortable: the child finds most hilarious those things that they are on the verge of mastering or overcoming. an intake of breath, some silt off of a cliffs edge, a hanging in the air- a just about.

poop jokes are funniest to a person during potty training. the funniest they will ever be to that person is during potty training. from then on, the experience of laughing at a poop joke, genuine laughter, is a warm fond memory. the jokes themselves, the things in themselves, never completely stop being funny. think also of finding someone finding something funny- especially a child.

(and where were we again... at the beginning? or the end?)