the unipanrhizomatubiquity of itall

I don’t know that I believe in divisions between things. Between physical objects. Between people. The separations between things are, in some ways, working fictions. Yes, there are different ‘zones’, but I have this notion of everything being part of this huge protoplasmic unity. From galaxies to the insides of dogs and the undersides of sweatsocks. Do we really need cell walls? Don’t things morph into one another, if only eventually? The same is true of concepts and abstracts. One person’s unibrow is another’s mantra. Someone’s pain is my pain, though the self creates reasons to keep it at a distance. I want my writing to reflect the fundamental unipanrhizomatubiquity between/of things.

I often walk in the woods around Hamilton. There are surprisingly many trails, waterfalls, forests, cliffs, winding paths. I love wandering, not knowing where I’m going. When I walk on a trail system and accidentally discover how it is connected to another system, I’m a bit disappointed. Some of the mystery, the potential, is gone. Things seem a bit smaller, both conceptually, and physically. The possibility for association, for resonance, for imagination, is reduced. I want to discover a thousand thousand microcultures, microworlds. I don’t want to believe in base ten. I want to believe in base infinity. I like the opportunity to be a flaneur through a non-repeating labyrinth.

All connections are pataphysical. All categories. Even the number two is one.

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(I wrote this as a statement about my books Outside the Hat and Raising Eyebrows. I have to consider whether this still entirely holds true for my current thinking. Stay tuned. Always stay tuned.)