Rukuruku (Beneath The Surface Mind)
I am the scriber of word, the carver of thought from the layers of formless consciousness. The falcon on the wind I am. The deep shadow depths unmoved by surface storms I am . The fragile woven work of the geometer masterpiece called Pungawerewere I am. Tap, tap, tap I breathe, ahhhhhhh…shhhhhh.. my mouth moves to my finger to the digital drum where frontal cortex plays only what it knows….
What is the path of a creation experience? The two faced Janus Twins appear. Conscious logical digital rational grammatical face reinforced by rewards of behaviours norms and awards. The wild young chaotic minds already bridled by time we reach nursery. Stop this. Stop that. Stand here. Sit there. I see this in my creative Wild Word Wananga each Winter when schools sleep. There is the academic student, very diligent, reliable with great A grades who can analyse literature pieces to extract every drop of meaning. Head prefect material and top all around guy. Already marked for a successful career in the military, medicine or corporate investment. He has choices. But this same student struggles to fill out a blank piece of paper with his own original thoughts. He struggles with the exercise. The syntax, punctuation, spelling, crossing outs, unfinished sentences. What.. what… what is the fucking point of this? He screams inside his mind..
Meanwhile a tattooed Maori kid with pierced tongue arrives late and plonks herself down. Looks at the blackboard and starts writing intensely.. She fills the paper with herself. Anti-establishment mix of art, lyrics and genuine writing talent. Maybe she does street performance like busking. Or just lives from a free state. Welcome kids to The Concrete and The Wild.
I been writing short stories to chisel my thoughts. Just making up snippets. The above ‘Rukuruku’ was about 15 minutes free-writing in my exercise book Warwick 1B4 with some edits as I blogged it.