What happens to our ancestral self?
I find myself in an ancestral zoo. Instead of humans, we are beasts, made and unmade. We are the stardust the constellations are created from. We mimic astrological truisms. We coast among starlight. Moving through form, we are weaved into the sky.
Where are we now? A new body, a new skin. Es aquí donde recuerdo mi primer idioma. Es aquí donde vive mi lengua maternal. Antes del español. Everyone is speaking it and I somehow know it without ever being taught. It’s here that I am feeling thankful to be invited into this space. Villarreal’s consciousness is a celestial one, a godly one. She plays in form, spacing, overlapping, shapes, images, lists, all carrying a different jug of weight. They are of varying weights, heights, temperatures…..there’s so much complexity here. I want to talk about the stars. About the elements. About nature and its connection the the body- not as an ecology but as a motion.
Kimani,
ReplyDeleteI loved your attention to the ancestral self here!
Where can we find our ancestor? Seems to be a question Villarreal is trying to determine throughout this wonderful collection.
I loved your comment about "Moving through form, we are weaved into the sky" It brings me back to a poem in her collection where she talks about the sky and lightning and the veins it creates.
Our ancestors are always watching it seems as they are weaved into the sky.
Good questions, but some relationship and conversation with a book is needed.
ReplyDeletee