Taking In the Language The House Speaks by Clarity Artists

The Alchemical Rede Magazine

By Clarity 1

2023 October 20 Issue Taking In The Language, The House Speaks Introduction: Follow the course, ramble through the Need, chew up the reinforcement and you are ready to go.

Taking In The Language, The House Speaks Home, the center, the dot, the Alchemical resource that includes you, as you make your way from season to season, day to day, moment to moment, gathering together the resilience of all you know and feel.

Listening to your surroundings, allowing them voice, allowing them freedom to participate in your daily world, your base, your equational equilibrium, that comfort you during your passages from daylight to nightfall. 4

You embark, you journey from, you leave to return, you nest and then y forth, you ride, drive, walk, y, until you return. You return and the house always speaks its hello.

You carry your house within you, but you include your exterior one as well, making sure you have both, both of equal standing to your need, want, and desire.

Color, rhythms, and words are evoked, if within you, there is an imagination that has been nourished, either by yourself or another, that allows the house an autonomy of relationship, companionship, and say in what unfolds.

How have you treated your house today, and how is that relationship unfolding for the both of you? What room have you given yourself today? 6

Speaking forward from the beginning, the heart folds in many languages of the reach of the soul, so the home of the folds of the self, the beginning of the thread, the most important particle of awareness.

The home, the mouth of existence, the folding matter of equational thought, and the sacred voice of the deepest memory. A challenging voice of awareness that couples and uncouples with the soft transparencies. 7

The held memories resonant of time, become the drawers of the closets we repair and re-repair. We are not followers of speed, we are the moving motion that sees the clarity for ease. When we care deeply we start writing on the walls and the inside of drawers and the back of books, and inside the liners so that we can remember that home is everywhere, it is inside of everything and we cannot be separated from its writing, as it communicates how part of everything we are.

When home comes knocking at our door it has a face more sensing of who we are and it knows the soft equations of feeling completely belonging. The sculptures of day after day, we remember all the pages of all the homes we have called our own. We remember the small wrinkles and the folds that aren’t quite even. 8

Even the puckers in the paper that are unique to di erent times. We close the footage and allow the waxing and waning of the moon as it calendars the eons.

As we cover all our bases at this time, in a world that feels very exposed, peeled back, blown away, we try to come back to the back, so that maybe we can move forward from the front.

We are no longer bothered by the small insolent mis-chosen, but instead we are more in the moment of the distaste for the order within us. No, we are not like the generations before.

When the blue clouds come oating we take in the sky much more than we ever have before, because we know our home is more vast and our planet reaches way beyond the con nes of the earth alone.

We are neighbored less by con ning terminology, and what used to con scate our moments of austerity is now trying to the claim the course, but we remember that our larger is inside our bigger, and our bigger is inside our smaller, and our smaller has more room than ever before.

As the majesty of time tries to erect castles, we nd our crown is on all our heads. The poetry of our times is direct indirectly, and we are able to say what cannot be said. In this we are at home within ourselves.

The rooms that we open are not to be opened to just anyone, but the ones that are everyone, and can listen and engage through their hearts, and hear what the ear has to say, what the doorway has to give, and what the passage is about.

The colors and rhythms of the many rooms, that make up a home, are the resonance that is inside the pulse, and the pulse brings the vibrancy of words, spoken and unspoken, into a language that includes you in the making of what house and home are.

Endless in the resilience, in nite in the meaning, the oors support the dreams, the walls support the vision, and the roof makes way for the ight that goes beyond.

We are ever in our homes, each of us, and if we listen we can easily hear it speak to us of its desires, its wants, and needs, but you have to ask it the questions, and the questions that are answers become clear.

This is absolutely the way of things, both visible and invisible, both heard and unheard. When we live on this side of the world, this side of the ocean, this side of town, does not mean that there isn’t something going on on the other side.

We have been taught to think small, not in the way of small as companion to immense, but small-mindedness, that includes only what is seen, how limiting is that. Time to reach out beyond the con nes of con ned, and release the imagination to once again roam.

Creating is the greatest of freedoms, it can be so small that barely anyone knows about it, it can be so small that barely anyone has heard of it, it can be so small that even you aren’t sure whether it has merit. It all has merit, it all is meant to be here with you, now in this moment, with you there listening or reading this.

Taking in the language the house speaks, takes someone willing to brave their own upbringing, their own schooling, their own work-shopped, networked life of whether what is real is real, or what is thought to be real is real, or what might be real, could possibly be real, is real. 15

If its curled into a ball, atrophied from lack of use, or just plain scared, pick it up and hug it back into yourself. Whisper to it, “We’ll be okay”. Feed it crayons and paper, pen and ink, canvas and paint, anything to get it to breathe properly again.

Reel it in, bring it in close, be up close with the questions and listen for the answers, sit in the stairwell, peer through the oorboards, lift up the carpet, unscrew the lightbulbs, open up all the kitchen cabinets, look in all the corners. At some point you will nd it, your imagination.

Once you’re able to take a big enough breath, feel enough room around you, and have had the hands of the clock stop to let you pass, you can begin to once again play the notes of your own inner rhythm. The house knows the tune by heart and will play along with you.

The house and you are in concert with one another, and just when you thought you were on the other side of the world, in how you thought, or felt, the house lets you know you are part and parcel of the package, that is the contents of this house, this home, this way of being.

Your Papered Awareness opens every door, and you stand con rmed in your ability to listen as the Red Thread weaves its woven song throughout the house. You can hear the tight hum of its calling and you answer with all your questions.

The circumferic rise of your own curiosity penetrates the atmosphere and the environment yields to your planted seed of an idea, the idea that a house, a home, could possibly be in resonance with your very own dreams.

Who watches over you each and every night, the roof over your head, or the tent, or the tree canopy. Each, in its own way, guardians you as you sleep and dream the dark awake, and the daylight to come.

Counting sheep, the wool of the bers weave, help you sleep the dreams awake, and allow you to be among those whose dreams make living possible.

What did you see in the corners of your house, what did you see between the oorboards that hold up your feet, what did you hear as you sat in the stairwell, well, what did you hear? And when you lifted up the carpet, did you nd your missing ear-ring?

The cosmos moves in on the wings of thought and the prayers that a meteorite does not crash through the roof, but rather moves across the sky as a shooting star to pin your wishes on.

We are here, as close as me and you to this screen, we read and touch into the making of community, one that feeds and is fed by the Long Spoon of the Universe, the verses of celestial sound harmonizing with the notes that connect us.

“We split the Need into equal parts to manage the volume”, we are volumed into the sound pouring into us from the planet, galaxy, solar system, and universe, and we hear. We all hear, and gift is to listen. 21

What is present to you, what do you open today that lives with you in your house, what do you give home to, that resides deep within you and seeks voice?

We listen, we map the listening, we navigate the listening, we travel the listening, we share the listening, and we become more of who we are for it. Music is our constant companion, we make letters out of it, we make artwork from it, we photograph the music we see, we collage it and put it in formats that we all can share together. We are fed. 22

Enter the door, the room, the thought, and allow yourself the listening of what you hear, and remember the whispers your childself heard. The circumferic measure knows the distance you’ve traveled and has a seat for you to rest upon.

Count yourself among the cosmos, equal to the stars and the wishes upon, we are the making of all things in all ways, and we are eternally grateful for the time of being here with one another. 23

Promising every moment, even before it begins, that it will be noticed, that it will have purpose, it will have meaning, it will become a story that is epic, marvelous in your own life, and others. Who knows who the others are, who can from here, but we will send it there anyway.

We are composed of our outright brashness, with our childish behavior conquering like super heroes all the would-be that can never be. We raise up above our heads the nales on all our stories that become a good ending, good life, a simple medieval promise given to.

We are very civilized now and we think in civilized ways until we meet a barbarian then we fall back into our cave, strap on our boots and armor, and come out like Thor.

We can’t help it, no matter what he arrives in us, and we break down the doors of have-to, should of, and should bes, and say why not? They did not expect us to say why not, afterall we are civilized people, and civilized people do not say why not. 25

And they do not stomp their feet and say what if. We were taught this since we were two, and somehow the meaning of two has changed, and to our surprise it is 22,100, how scary is that! Well, it is awake and alive in this time.

So, don’t forget the hammer, or the bow and arrow, or the sword, they may look di erent in these times, but they still cut through.

We are wristed for the no of what says you must. We are wristed for the stop of the arrest of what tries to cause us to be without the power of our palm. We palm ourselves in ancient ways, and we know the blessing of oil and tincture, ower and essence, runes and oracles, owers and crystals, omens and tokens.

We are naked to our risks, and there we have a small band, a template of pyramidial power, and we use it, we use it here to make there safe, we use it there to make here safe, we know the power beyond power and the risk knows how to ick it this way and that.

We amulet ourselves as if we are the whole crystal kingdom joining forces to create a pyramidial planet that knows the di erence of what is and what was. To pre-date the meaning, is to follow the column of notial di erence, and the footage of navigational sight.

The conference between the units of time begin to click and the clicking is heard from the within the ear of every consciousness, and in this you are heard, you have hearing that hears what is heard, and what is meant inside of what is heard and how the negotiation of sound cannot unhear the heard of you.

The promise to call forward is now beginning to be ful lled, and you must hold to your sight, as it channels the sound into your ears.

Taking forward all the time and needs of every location within one’s life we immerse ourselves in the oneness of every moment of who we are. We bind it into a correlated volume and knee upon the ground of our own woodedness . We are the Earth, we are the trees, we are the owers, we are all that binds the Earth to itself. We have come in and out of binding ourselves to the Earth and the planet.

We eat of ourselves and ourselves eat of us, so we that are eating here, are part of they who are eating there. And we that are held within the creative promise can dominate what is not. No matter how small we are, or insigni cant there is nothing bigger than the love within our DNA.

We have con ned ourself to this DNA, since creation began. We are the same as the Mother. We are the same as the Eve of consciousness that took life into her womb.

We have become the mind of the planet, and the planet has become the mind of what lives. We have done this from the rst mention of our DNA, dietary nutritional alignment.

Timing our arrival with the wished for, we are the shooting star that gathers speed and aimed its true intent across the heavens, so that the mark could be made, the target hit, and the life unfold.

No matter what house your star was in, no matter what constellation you arrived from, you are independent and available. We are the codial web of what weaves, and we make our fabric cross over the web, until home is the hearth we nd ourselves in front of.

We are the cordial factors of what counts and the counting is adding up to the ease of residence, and the boarding of ight from the upper stairs. We count among ourselves the genius of genus and we animal our way through the jungle of Max and the Wild Things.

Once freed of owned, we climb up onto the roof of our vista and proclaim the right to say what we see and how we see it. This is the voice of proclamation and the ease with which the notes of E come forth. Emotion, emancipation, equality, equine, Epicurious, and ephemeral.

Noted are the reasons for Home, and house is the living voice of all its contents, free to be themselves and adding to our conversation that weaves its course through ours.

Closure: Wipe o your face, fold up your napkin and put it in your pocket, so you are ready for the next meal.

Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Hake, Clarity