Gracious Calamity

about

The radiant meadow glistens with history, pocked with crystals. The color wheel, your hands, shapes of infinite cosmic accelerating. Your spirit has formed. Gradient paths simmer in the mist; a momentary vision and your spare eye catches a yellow one, an oiled foot moves through oceans of Mediterranean space and there is an instant of rush and the birds descend upon your clothes. The eyes close and you cry “Yes!” With a whoosh and swoop a thousand tiny birds gently lift your body from the ground. You arrive lost and aged, across the valleys, the dark canyons, having traveled a fortnight instantly, and lived half as long. You arrive with a plum pit in your stomach and an icicle dagger in your teeth. You have been transported to the peak of the the keepers of the song. There is absolutely no way you could have walked here, and you are fully aware that you are a guest. The music speaks. It speaks for your dreams, and it speaks from frequencies beyond your imagination. Gracious Calamity is a dream and an experiment. The songs are green and the voices are ancient. The strings are whirling children, the hearts of ballerinas, aged six. The smiles and the rhythms are heart blasting dust roads of living glitter, and it will never make sense that these two secret and wonderful women are doing this for you. When a Gracious Calamity song begins, tiny areas of your body begin to remember the microscopic sensation of moisture and air molecules. The history of the country where you were bo

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