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There were pockets of restful pause in the beat of the Princess’ ongoing search for home space. Though fleeting, she pretended that they weren’t, and they would last until they were over. Along the way, she’d successfully maintained contact with the invisible window-cluster anomalies, and for that, she was very glad.

It was possible that she was getting tired. Someone might panic at this point, which reminded her that she mustn’t. Transforming the panic resulted in thoughts both morbid and comforting. So what if she did get lost and die this way? Utilizing the consideration of an historian. The possibility was nearing; if disappointing, it was also simple. Her learning with the Vedani would come to no benefit. Hanging onto the levity of academic curiosity, she theorized about unknown true history, thanking her teacher Arkuda for the fortitude in this reactionary decision. She was still moving, still achieving one always-surprising jump after another.

Soleil thought on the old advice about staying in one place in order to be found. After the first jump, she knew she’d done something her Vedani team had not, and maybe could not. There was no waiting for rescue.

Limited Offer: Bookmark Window Stickers

Until July 31: Paypal $5 per bookmark sticker to primal.spiral@gmail.com with quantity & address in note to receive anywhere in the world.  Limit 25.

Talk about a beautiful misprint!  While I was under the impression that I would be receiving vinyl transfers and not inside-window stickers, they do make lovely glassine bookmarks.

While I visit Nine Worlds in London & Worldcon 75 in Helsinki, these will be given to anyone who can show me they ordered a copy of Book 1, Fire On All Sides!

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Cascadia Recap

Friday & Saturday were both beautiful days to do the things we love to do best, and that included writing and group creativity!  From river to art installation to stage, live art, and teahouse – we connected in different ways with writing and perspective. We had such an engaging group of people.

 

I also mic-delivered the entirety of The Lay of Sakhana & Zoe from Book 1 during Saturday’s open mic at the Dream Zone (2).  I’ve read parts of this at speculative poetry panels at Arisia (Boston) and Norwescon (Seattle).  Will share official photos when they come…

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Below, Adam One (13th Sequence centerpiece artist) in front of his live painting, with our friends.

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Here is a workshop artwork I made, featuring the tree people of Cascadia:

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And while I was away from my studio, it was shortly inhabited with experimenting graffiti art by George Myers (below).

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Everything can continue while thoughts still,
and there is no doing even in the doing.

ACAMAR ends a day in the moment when thoughts still,
the un-doing of things when doing is done,
when all things have been put away,
the course finished.

Swirling water in a a stirred cup flowed,
and slowed.
Thoughts settled like the dust of leaves to the bottom,
creating space of dreamless sleep.

There,
life,
whether known.
From the still expanse in the clear space,
where there is still breath:
my life.

At the river’s end it became something else –
the tumbling motion undid itself,
transformed under greater force:
gravity,
entropy –
to new form,
other form,
next phase.

The streetside stream falling to another level below.
ACAMAR:
a bottomless vessel that remains full,
where through falls the stream to settle,
a still flame’s column of air.

ACAMAR followed the end of the day,
the last thing said,
the final word.

No more conversation;
the babble of the brook succumbed to the faucet.
The liquid stopped moving in suspension,
the living flame stood still.

To exist in a hurricane torrent,
a flame surrounded itself with stillness.
Among least still of all things,
its motion outmatched,
persisted only through greater stillness.

Conceiving of their release and revival,
eightfold of flame and like brought me,
ACAMAR,
to life.

Surest of my existence,
they bore the knowledge.
I am their result.
I am their change,
I am brought of their resolution.
Their suppression became stillness,
and they found their return,
through me,
ACAMAR.