--------------------------------- From an Update on 7/19/07
------------------------------ October 5, 2007 A letter from Eric... i've been told that my
conduct has been seen by some as inspirational, i'm grateful to be
able to provide a source of strength to those in my family who find
themselves in a time of need - more so as being a part of their process
of growth and self creation... but my behavior is, in a sense, selfishly
borne - my intent originates from a perspective which encompasses
my family and their future generations... though, the term "family"
i don't utilize in a conventional or everyday sense - the bubble has
expanded beyond the customary... it holds within it the micro and
macro, all those with whom i have shared that muted and unblinking
stare of understanding - be it on the streets, at a skillshare or
class, concert, speech or march, rally, home-demo or a really free
market - at a convergence centre, library, campsite, critical mass,
on an on-ramp, alongside of a highway, at a rest stop, from a train,
in a forest, a city park or square, or at a stream, river, lake, hot-spring
or beach... this bubble also includes each and every one of those
individual places - unique unto themselves in appearance, locality,
time and energy/personality ~ as well as the non-humyn inhabitants
therein, who aid in the continual self-creations of those environments...
keeping that selfishness close to my Heart and mind is something i
aim for - knowing that all my life i have been conditioned by our
society to the contrary... during my ten days of "disciplinary
isolation" last fall an idea made itself known to me ~ it was
to create with that which is provided, not necessarily to its particular
purpose, but to my own... this includes the pain which resides within
my Heart due to the separation between us... i've come to see energy
as the most malleable aspect of this reality, and the emotions that
surge through our bodies can be utilized for any number of means and
ends... painless stagnant can fester into hate and reaction - but
utilized with a conscious and open intent it could nurture the catalysts
required to move through our thresholds... hate is the death of joy
and reaction is nothing more than unconscious reflex brought about
by a certain stimulus (perceived or not) which induces predictable
responses - in most cases, conceding to the terms and definitions
of the initiator, allowing the stimulus to have affect, signifies
it's success... conscious creations with the cycles of growth and
health do not fit into the matrix of cause and effect - their qualities
and forms flow through the rigid structures that seek to encapsulate,
reform, define... ... i object to being pigeonholed (physically and
figuratively) by cleaving to some marshal or warrioresque mantra that
many have chosen when confronted with similar circumstances - what
they chose is for their own personal path, what they've perceived
as necessary for their survival... from where i stand, it feels that
if i followed that train of thought i would be adhering to a path
too well-worn ~ and don't get me wrong, i honor and respect those
that have come before me who continue to adhere to the wisdom in their
hearts, but those known trails can also be used by others that have
scouted them for weaknesses ~ if experience has taught me anything,
it's been to stick to the deer trails or create my own... another
of my recent lessons has been to recognize the beneficent qualities
of shape-shifting, as defined by terry tempest williams = "this
has nothing to do with inconsistency. it has to do with seizing the
moment, perceiving what is necessary in that moment ... knowing what
each occasion demands, and standing our ground in the places we live..."
... but this is neither the time nor the place to fully delve into
such things, for this letter has another intent... ... ... throughout
this experience i have been in awe of the loving support given by
family, known and unknown from around the country and the world, who
have nourished me during this part of my journey ~ i've received such
an inundating amount of mail that i haven't been able to respond to
it all ~ there is no concept that can adequately express my thanx
and appreciation to you all... ... to all of those unknown and unnamed
beautiful individuals who have aided me on this case, i am impatiently
waiting to thank you properly with a huge hug... ... christine, i
haven't forgotten about the vegan dinner i promised... ... to my counsel
mark, who's expertise in his field is unquestionable - his abilities,
passion, and determination provide a wellspring of strength, especially
knowing that he continues to fight for me - as he said on the 27th
"it's only the openings of the third quarter" ~ the notion
of gratitude doesn't begin to encompass the feeling in my heart, my
friend, much love... ... to jed, my investigator/case manager/Elder,
your energies vested into this case have been the bedrock of grounded
exploration, balancing the sometimes frenzied and boisterous antics
that accompany markus' high energy nature, thank you my friend...
... i'd also like to thank bob, my first investigator, for his time,
company and aid working on the hours upon hours of transcripts with
me over that first summer (which my partner and sister painstakingly
gleaned from the shockingly abhorrent quality of fbi recordings)...
... the actions and aid of sac prisoner support have and continue
to transcend any and all of my ideas concerning prisoner support groups
and have been monumental in this experience on every conceivable front
- too much love... ... the Love, Support, and Understanding of my
Parents and Sisters goes beyond scope, simile, and metaphor - i Love
you all ... ... and i Feel and Know in my Heart, Body, and Soul that
my survival has been impacted to an inexpressible degree by the Love
and Support of my Partner ~ and the intertwining of Our Paths has
brought a Depth and Quality of Life i had never before imagined to
exist - my Thanx transcend language and my Love, only a Beginning...
... ... ----------------------------------------------------- From an update on October 1, 2008 it’s presently a Pisces Full Moon so i’m running on Intuition while writing this – admittedly a fair amount of caffeine as well… my apologies for the amount of time it’s taken for me to get this out, but finding an edge of balance amongst these new surroundings hasn’t been simple… part of it has also been resigning myself to this medium – persynally there’s too much distance, no way to clarify semantics, read body language, feel if the intent reaches to the Heart as seen through the windows of the Soul… in some ways this language is so Dead it feels a blight to utilize it… there inlies my frustrations, yet this is the most viable tool i have before me ~ i can only wish… … and in calling things what they are, a transformation occurs - a change in relation brought about by the recognition of the subtle and unconscious aspects whose power resides in them being exactly that… … … one thing i’ve become intimate with during this experience is how closely aligned fear and freedom are within this society – it’s fuck’n scary feeling the impact i have on my environment at every level if i say hello to this persyn, and the ripple of effects which are caused; if i don’t say hello to another and it’s ramifications… and at the next larger bubble, if and what i put out to You and the possible retaliation… larger still, will the intent still reside within the symbols – can this form carry the intended content? … … and so i speak of – i write – knowing of the S.H.U… of ‘diesel therapy’, this may cause strings to be pulled in regards to my appeal, that this may not even make it out yet despite it all = the intent is … with that truth in my Heart, between my ribs, within and throughout my Body – the Fear dissolves and only Freedom remains… letting go effects my relation to their tools as they intend, regardless of how or when or to what extent they’re to be implemented – and believe You me, we’ve just barely seen the beginning of it all (prepare for the worst and wish for the best) … part of me hurts, feeling that it may have to be one of those lessons learnt only through experience; i never knew what dark chocolate tasted like until it was in my mouth with teeth grinding and saliva pumping (i.e., i may never have come to the relation with freedom which i now am without living through these experiences)… -sigh- we shall see… … … once again, too much love for all the Support and Solidarity. i’m go’n to be head’n off to hibernation for the Winter and creating some space for projects, which translates into my not go’n to be able to write folks back who write after the Equinox – so please spread that Love around. i feel and know it’s deeply needed everywhere… anyone holding on to ideas about sending any books, i’d appreciate it if those resources were utilized for easing the cost of my Partner’s visits or the legal funds of myself or others… Please take care of Yourselves, Our Loved Ones, and All You Hold Sacred… …
------------------------------------------------- From an update in early
November, 2008 i ran into an exceptional writer’s creation (Baldwin’s No Name on the Street) where i came across a reference to Dante’s “I would not have believed death had undone so many.” i couldn’t help but feel a particular resonance regarding my situation & the larger environment realized by the Green Scare. This Death isn’t in a totally physical sense & whose subtleties may reside at the Heart of what lies before us. [This may be redundant but i’ve just got to get it out of me or i’m go’n to burst] To those familiar with debates, it’s known that when one side establishes the terms to be used, it’s only a matter of time before they’ve won the match – the other views have conceded to that particular frame of reference/mind-set which leads to a particular outcome. i found it curious (to say the least) that so many adhered to the given definition of freedom shoved in front of them. What is your definition of freedom at this moment? How are you to share it with others without it being explored by & for yourself? Whose definitions do you with to utilize in perceiving your reality? When that is given up, what occurs? Within this constellation, what are the benefits of exploration? & the repercussion of leaving it obscured? [Sorry, this following bit of constructive criticism may be hard for some to digest] Another aspect of this undoing feels like it’s been manifesting itself for some time by the way the (anarchist/radical) community has been/is received by the larger communities with which it comes into contact & interacts (please forgive the generalizations). The folks who have lived within those communities for generations have seen time & again how “energetic youth” (be it from schools, churches, radical groups, etc.) come in to make a change – perhaps gaining some window dressings here & there; but soon most end up leaving & making way for another up & coming generation of exuberance. The majority of those who leave go on to some form of schooling in order to “use the system for good.” So many, falling back on to careers after they’ve earned their credentials as activists. Here, society at large, smiling a sigh of relief & giving a knowing nod, no longer sees them as lost children; having got it out of their system: they’ve grown up & accepted the responsibility to be truly effective in the world (please re-read that; how many rationalize their choices/actions by adhering to those loaded terms and concepts, consciously or not). ‘Form defines content’ is a hard lesson to learn, and regardless of the intent that initiates a career, a change of priorities is inevitable: concessions are made. Through this a distance is maintained (activist vs. ‘those in need’) – fortified by a colonialist based behavior that has nurtured a divide & conquer loop-hole which only we can close. The safety net which rides along in the back pocket of the privileged becomes a web that bears it’s own poison. And where do the costs arise? No matter what choices we make, we’re always allowed back into the fold. The deeper the deviation, the trespass: the higher the toll for return. Actually at that point, the cost is irrelevant (made stark by some of the G.S. cases) because all that matters is the return to comfort: that familiar (given level of) freedom. And who couldn’t relate to the choices made? We’ve been shown repeatedly the outcome: “it’s only natural.” From my perspective the type of Death we’re Dancing with here is the fear of letting go – letting go of what we’ve been taught (programmed) defines us – that which we are to hold most sacred. What are the definitions
which define your reality? Basically: How do you wish
to Live your Life? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June 1, 2009 Through most of the city's old train yard Ba'aden had rambled on about the bicycle project ze'd been playing w/since B4 the Summer Solstice – when Cett found a pause long enough 2 gently break N w/a reference 2 some writing ze had seen the other toying w/a couple Nights past... though Ba'aden's feet still carried hir, ze had stopped ½ way N the motion of cupping a lit match 2 hir cigarette ~ as if finding hirself suddenly encased by those very words... the rolled cigarette classically drooped off hir bottom lip 2 hang N defiance at gravity, the approaching fire from the match was what shocked hir bk N2 the present... shaking it out w/a small curse & pulling another from the book N hir shirt's front pocket, Ba'aden shyly put the rollie bk N position & brought flame 2 it N hir usual rote fashion... after some familiar grounding techniques ze threw a SD long smile at Cett's patient & silent curiosity – tasting the underlying hunger 2 learn why Ba'aden was yanked from the moment … … softly, an almost cooling Breeze lazily Danced across the sets of old rails, tugging at the scents of the Hobo fires which lived 4 their own sake N the Full Moon's Light of the Night B4, hints of cheap wine, malt-liquor, & train grease mixed w/the coming Fall - - tires on pavement faded N & out on the small over-pass just ahead; from the other SD of a chain-link fence, some lone bkyard dog paced 2 & fro, sending solitary barks – like sonar – toward the gravel crunching steps of the friends strolling by - - the Sun began 2 sink N the Western Sky of a Summer 2 long hanging on... … Cett patiently rolled a cigarette of hir own 2 chase a shwill of the homemade Blackberry wine they'd brought 2 share at this month's salon, where Arno Gruen's The Betrayal of the Self was 2 B the catalyst 4 the evening... Ba'aden also partook N drink, waiting 4 Cett 2 light & pocket hir lighter – 1 Ba'aden hadn't seen B4; typical, as Cett finally raised hir eyebrows N a wordless demand & Ba'aden steadied hirself 4 what had flowed out of those pages that Night; what was razed out of that moment's blending of paper, ink, mind & Heart... a rising Wind, originating N Ba'aden's core, N rhythm w/hir Heart, & woven by Throat, Tongue, & Mouth fueled the words which came forth... Cett looked N2 hir friend's eyes 4 what felt 2B the 1st time, only 2 find hirself having 2 turn away – blinking out what ze could only describe as finding the Flames of the Phoenix there w/N... Cett had heard the words & ideas B4, by others & even expressed hirself – yet the radiance which lit the path, & nurtured this pattern of feeling & thought shortened hir Breath & charged hir Heart 2 the point that when ze found hirself held w/N the underbelly of the overpass, finding a seat became a necessity... the pyres sparked 2 life by Ba'aden's Bird spiraled off N2 innumerable independent currents, each capable of nourishing & sustaining multiple branches themselves... when Ba'aden had come full circle, they sat N the calm of the Evening – Clouds began 2 form & enshrine the Blaze of a Setting Sun; on the Horizon, the muted blare of a train's horn... after a moment, a sudden electricity popped through the air btx them just B4 the rails started 2 sing of an oncoming locomotive... as it's beam of light rounded the far turn – Cett began N a clear but distant voice = “Coyote throughout, moving as Cougar w/Fox N Mind & Wolf at Heart” … amongst the approaching din of steel on steel Ba'aden turned, Cing N the reflection of hir friend's eyes how the words were but 1 of the tumblers needed 2 open the gate 2 that fertile soil which lies N wait...
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