A Magpies’ Museum of Lost Creations.
A Magpies’ Museum of Lost Creations.
If there was a theme to this month’s Tidings of Magpies, or any month’s, really, it’s patchwork. Making something new out of fragments, out of things discarded, disjointed, or cast aside.
I’m talking about creating something big together, working together on something, something good. Something money and cynicism can’t touch, because we have no use for any of that. Something we believe in, even if it seems a little crazy. An unholy ghost building made up of dream-filled rooms and corridors leading to vistas and light. A place where we can sigh out our sentences and sing out our silences.
And it occurred to me that there’s nowhere else I needed to be, nowhere more important than this place at this time, standing on a cool and warming June morning with Clio rolling in the clover. This is the first lesson.
At various times in your life you might find yourself back in the wood between the worlds.
In my insomnia thoughts, I imagined Tidings of Magpies as a sort of commons. A green space where we can walk and talk together, and work together on our allotment gardens. Ideas can grow, and we can bind them together with each other’s thoughts and feelings, and make something new and beautiful.
I could say something, but why?
Do you want to know what’s in my heart?
From the beginning of time: just this! just this!
“…but in the sense of someone or something from years or decades or centuries past that seems to speak to you, personally; some act of creation that sparks a glowing connection of admiration, or a recognition of perfect mutual strangeness. A “kindling” spirit”
Ideas are born in the hollow of unknowing.
Thoughts on our first year. Our editorial calendar is serendipitous, and each month’s theme is make-the-road-by-walking.