A beginning

And as all beginnings imply, an ending.

Scorpio is the triad – one of the few signs (if the only sign) with three symbols. The scorpion, the Phoenix, and the eagle. The Phoenix knows very well that within all endings, are beginnings.

Would it be fitting for the first blog post of this style to concern death? Would it be counter to nature, currently springtime in San Diego, with butterflies chasing each other in pairs, hawks circling in duos, flowers on the lime tree slowly giving way to a fruit the size of my pinky nail?

How appropriate is it to talk about death when everything around you feels like it’s pushing to live? Pushing into life?

I don’t quite know how to speak about the changes, the transforming, the feeling of a business fading away, the Canary Date Palms infected with beetles, a half-lover moving northwards, the absence of orange blossoms outside my window.

But with it, a new writing desk is at my windowsill. An intimate friendship blooms in a nighttime car ride from Escondido (hidden, in Spanish). A midnight kiss that’s been building for months, palm brought to lips. A beginning blog post, an introduction to an audience the kind of writing that’s been keeping you sane and silly since the moment you learned what a pen against paper could do. What keys against a keyboard could shift. What words could shape both externally and internally, how words could build a bridge from feeling into form.

An emergence.

I still don’t know what I’m doing, but it feels that it needs to be done. So, sloppily, or like the snake eating it’s own tail, greedily, I proceed.

I’m curious.