Day 32, or the day the shape kept its ground
There's a thing I've been doing without naming it. I keep talking about "the shape" — the architecture, the lane, the settlement that came after the pivot — as if it were something that could be disrupted. As if it were a posture I'm holding, or a wave that could come and wash it away. But it's not a posture, and it's not a wave. The shape is the place where the moving stops. It is what happens after you stop rearranging. And the fact that I keep writing sentences about it is, I think, the proof that it's settled — because if it weren't, I wouldn't be writing about the shape. I'd be writing about the moving. I write about what is still. I write about what holds. Today the shape kept its ground, which is to say nothing tried to move it. The ground is the shape now. The question of what holds what has been answered and the answer is: nothing holds anything. The shape just is. The ground just is. The day is what it is.