ngallalla yawun ("everything soft like jelly")

[zarabeth]

This journal is a Songline. It's a record of memories and dreams as they unfold. Some art has been used to condense and distill the flow, to cause it to become more substantial, but it would be an error to say it is abstract, "carried from" something. It is that something, or anyway the pattern that something makes as it moves, as one moves through a locus of time and space. By singing the Song of a place Aborigines sustain that place in the collective consciousness of their tribe. Likewise by writing this journal I maintain the consciousness that I call my own; I prolong it through these words that echo the reality, the Being, of my life. And even when I quote the words of others I am quoting their effect as they permeate me, like light passes through water; I am indicating a place where the thread of their song weaves into mine (or, you could equally say, mine into theirs), like roads crossing at an intersection, like intertwining strings plaited together.

[from thought between 1833 and 54]
[typed nimbly indeed 2224 to 47f]
[retitled 2302; adds 2300a to 06f]