A Natural State

Are there storms in the ocean like there are here? Can you dance with me even though my ankles are weak and my dress is old? Even though the clouds weigh heavey over my head. We are defined by the land, by the angle the sun hits our bodies. So here we have been washed up: among the jagged rocks, aiming for the forest. These panthers and monkeys, these polar bears peer from behind tree trunks while we dance in the spray. Each one is significant of something. Each storm leaves another sound in its wake. The echoing against the wet air on the slick green leaves.

For every change there is an adaptation to a new environment. Reality filps in a moment. Even though the space looks the same. Even though you have the same food in your refrigerator and your cat is still trying to eat your fingers. There was a more natural time before this. But was that naturalness ever static?

Where were our animals meant to be before they became our pets? From where is their heritage? In another way, are they not bred for this kind of life in the same way we were bred for ours?

George, being a cat who was born for northerly climate, remains immense and sheds everywhere. He also eats plastic - like seal skin I would imagine. And on top of this, he is white, which, while a blot on my father's wooden floor, was once the sign of a stealthy snow creature.

Mosquitoes were originally meant to live normal life cycles in warm climates, but with the change in temperature they are living and becoming mutant virus machines. My ankles are pattered with their feasting. But the sores are not so innocent as they might once have been: a mere itching in the corner of your body. Now the mosquito is significant of the possible Dengue, the Zika, the West Nile virus. Consumerism: there is invisible poison everywhere. 

Naturalness is more complicated than the fact of being born, of being from a place, even from a heritage. Any kind of storm is bound to blow us away, clogging up pores, making long roads seem longer, making simple things a burden, like breathing or moving. Listening to music hurts because the feelings sway like waves and threaten to swallow you, cutting off feelings, suppressing emotions. 

Naturalness is the mindset to which you open yourself to change, allowing those feelings freedom. Even allowing them love. The most horrible thing wants love. We have been washed up on the shore and must dance through the pain or it will be harbored like a sore, it will be multiplied like a virus. So dance with me despite the storms I've weathered. 

henri-rousseau-the-dream-1910-movie-poster-prints.jpg
Irene Lee