Listening to: sheeeee's a killer QUEEN
Reading: Oranges are not the Only Fruit
Watching: Doctor Who
Playing: with my project
Eating: Frozen peas
If I was sure I knew what 'God' means and could decide which ones to pay attention to I'd call these sort of mind-spiralling-days a religious experience. As it is I'll put it down to a heady mix of science and story.
It's one of those days, those feelings, when the whole world is so very alive and wonderous. When the leaves are all unfurling, little fur-edged moth-wings and delicate slivers of evening emerald and I think about the excitation band being just right for our sunlight and the marvels of ATP and the sheer improbability of it all renders everything breath-taking. There are crows and pidgeons swooping and circling and I think about the complicated inter-play of a dozen types of feather and ion transfer and how glorious the wind feels. And then the complicated dance of electricty across a huge celtic-knot-work of neurons that allows me to appreciate this, the exchange of sodium and potassium across membranes and proteins folding like living oragami and how very bright the trees are.
How very alive everything seems to be.
My heart seems to beat a little faster and everything sparks ideas and it is the effects of coffee and the rush of endorphins that comes with the exam season and the feeling of spring and ashe all rolled into one fantastical mess. Ashe I think is the right word. Of all the metaphysical ideas I've come across it is the one I can really unequivocally believe in. 'The thing which makes life live'. The power of Kings and ministers to turn words and dreams into realities, the Trickster's blessing, the rhythm of the berimbau and the inspiration of every artist. On days like today it feels like the whole world is involved in grand and secret symphony.
No wonder I've been singing capoeira songs under my breath all day.
It is so very good to be alive.