In animate.

I am seeing these words emerge across this page.

(I am sorry that you are not here by my side in this instant. 

Perhaps, if you were I would not be able to write this. You are clearly fictional. I beg your pardon. No offense meant)

I feel that I am coming to the limits of static text.

(This is a process which is following on from my reflection on Keith Hamon's piece concerning in part at least rhizomatic learning. I am beginning to better understand [perhaps] the issues of 'Books making us stupid' which Dave Cormier initiated maybe a year ago? - this is an afterthought - gradually this writing is densifying as it emerges.)

(I include a Dave Cormier video here as an after-thought)

When you read this you will have the misleading impression that this article is complete.

It is a unit of which I am the author.

This might be convenient.

This might enable this artefact to be more easily tagged, more easily categorised.

You will be missing its essence, the incompleteness driving this writing, of what perhaps is driving your reading.  (this is an after-thought, and has experienced further editing)

You will not be reading what I wrote (I see little interest in writing so literally, so scientifically [ho, ho].) You will be reading what you write from its reading. I am far more interested in opening doors, rather than counting beans. (this is an after-thought).

[Even here, you will be struggling to follow me, because I am adding text here in brackets, I am moving back up the page, from the Soundcloud embed. So while this may give a semblance of linearity, it is a lie. This is a swarm of movement of thought of words, of reflection, after an initial triggering desire.  I wonder if you are beginning to understand how I am attempting to illustrate a passage of time, an irritating cultural myth that writing can depict reality.]

I shall let you into a secret.

I have been doing some research into dynamics, into complexity of symbiotic relationships between climbers and rock.

I am listening to Johhny Dawes vocalise the rhythm of rock.

"Bbbbb...."

If you have never listened to a piece of granite sing, then I invite you to listen to Johnny.

I am listening to his investigation of lizard grip.



This is where I pause the interview.

I am on to something.

Johnny suggests that noone else is interested in his experiments with singing rock.

He suggests that he is a 'sad freak'. 

He is wrong.(or maybe on second-thoughts he is right, whatever)

There are other marginals interested in such connections.

He reminds me of a comment of Dave Cormier.

He voiced somewhere, sometime, his relief that he has found other people who share his interest in things rhizome.

I must get in contact with Johnny again.

I haven't had any contact with him for 30 odd years.

It sounds like there are grounds for 'sad freaks' to get together.

I am fascinated in these ideas of illustrating complexity, of presenting life, without putting it in a sad blog box.

I will reflect....

That's enough to be going on with.

I am off to teach.(screams of laugther)