Back in the big city with the thoughts of CICER

As time moves you settle in to the next thing. It may be your work or home, even room, food, transportation, all that may be. The time which has just passed, which at times made you think of everything different, some how flows passively by as if it were of another period of time, like dinosaurs. It is very interesting how modern worlds make you forget. They quickly bath you in things like bills and travel, mundane work, and plastic eating. Back from Cape Verde and my mind wants desperately to uniform itself back to the way things were prior to me leaving; but I can not let it happen. This is not just due to events which continue to circle my mind, but also the arrogance I hold towards such powers of influence. I may here be speaking more pressingly about London, how it is busy and you are in turn busy in it, but are you; am I? I have time to contemplate and plate what I am doing, but I hurry with the ever present reality--given to me and shown to me whenever I walk--that things here are happening and happening now. I rush to think of my slow speed and then realize I have been moving faster then most, but it is not the 'most' that I worry about, or wonder about, it is the few, those promoted widely in places like London; those writers that are written about, those artists that are arted about. Are you making the mark needed? i ask myself, the etching, the engraving? Have you started? CICER in such lights becomes a pebble. It can grow, and it is my intention that it grow, but it is a pebble nonetheless. The joint growth and challenge endured in the residency this past month can quickly subside in a place like LONDON, so I am careful when I venture to be impacted by a small country, by a small community, for big clouds still cast bigger shadows.