Cougar WebWorks Publications



A Life in Hypertext


Begin with a point. Out of nothing, non-being, the potential, the possible. It happens. She grows. We all come from there. We always have. Or so we think. Until the end--there motion stops, mind blanks. Earth rests in mother-death, until next.

Invocation: The Hunt

The points accumulate, line up. All is one, one being, in motion, alive and individual, taking particular form, human-born. This body, air-fed. We sing, and animals draw near. Red the blood, the planet to come. The gods rave red-eyed, hieroglyphic in their lust, counting down hours in the melodies of atomic nuclei, till kingdom come.

I go to the north, my spirit choosing. To learn the tribal ways, in a time of systemic breakdown. To learn the names of the old gods, the ways of the time before gods. To learn the language of animal tracks and startracks, of dancing spirits in the dark. To learn the melodies of ancient songs--the driving force of the elements: hunger, cold, exhaustion, and the power in us to find food, make warmth, and to rest in each other's merry company. Where time is felt in hours waiting on ice pans for a trembling of a feather from a seal's breath invisible under the ice. Where the forces holding the world together are most primary: a couple locked in the heat of embracing, forging new life. A time of withdrawl from frenetic civilized sprawl, unchecked cancerous growth, mad wars and engines of no good purpose--to the mineral bedrock heart of physical reality: survival on rock and ice, under cold sun and winter wind.

This also is a time of the planet coming together as one tribe, the sense of collective survival coming to the forefront of consciousness. The me generation fusing not a sociopolitical agenda of unity but an unconscious synthesis of being, together, here and now on earth. Doing what we can--having come to the acceptance of black with white, looking for the wisdom of the red road north.

And having to succeed, not only to survive but to survive well, under penalty of shame before one's peers. It is necessary now to be physically fit and competent in basic skills; to have courage in the face of starvation and blizzard and system breakdown throwing us back on evolved capacities to learn and doggedly eke our way through; to take pride in the struggle and joy in the doing well of what must be done.

Sealflesh: oily, dark and rich. The finding of one's love in the heart of hearts. Ritual of intoxicating blindness, to awake in arms of an inspired choice in the dark. Going open-eyed into wilderness, to face carnivore and hear alien tongue. Hunting magic in secret places. Finding signs in the scattering of junk, the patterns of fate, disasters and premonitions. Hitting the road again, to go where no roads go.

© Nowick Gray


Prefaces and Introductions Without End
- By Nowick Gray

Fiction and Nonfiction
Performance and Freedom
On Autobiography
Keyword Matrix
The Program
Public and Private
Willingness: A Life Aesthetic
Invocation: The Hunt
Yet Another Preface
Wordwebs: Core Topics
Story of My Life

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