Becomings
are
cirrus-conceived
of a mother cloud,
lake-born
by a mother wave,
the day from a year
and night from black,
but beyond the light
of certain science,
an original trace
of youandme
sleeps deep
within
the
voice
of
my
verse
These are the inhalations~exhalations of one atelierista engaged in a daily turn about, an ongoing conversation, a line of flight that casts pebbles into ripples and tacks between the lived events of reggio emilia's pedagogy of listening as a world view of communities in collaboration whenever certainties are questioned and a way of becoming-allthings deleuzoguattarian through the visible trace of this expression. Without listening, one cannot let go.
2 Comments:
i loved this verse. beautiful.
thank you
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