Gold light is streaming through the windows as I begin to write this, while cattle lumber slowly behind me and past the table where I write reclines a man whom I alternately call “mon rêve,” “mon duc,” or most often, “mon amour.”
How I’ve come here is a story as wild as all the chaos of the world right now. I’ll write about it (of course), both the chaos and the love. Soon.
I guess I’ve already written about the chaos at least. Two recent essays have been on exactly that, both posted at A Beautiful Resistance. The first was “Pandemics and The State of Exception,” and just two days ago “The Occulted Meaning of Covid-19.” Neither quite suffice in making sense of all this senselessness, but actually nothing will.
And anyway, instead of making sense I’ve decided to give more time to just sensing, feeling, indulging in the sensuous. Granted, I’m in a rare position in my own life and compared to those of others to do so. I’m safe. I’m with a man I love. I’m well taken-care-of, both by others and especially–and most importantly–by myself.
Towards that sense, I’ve been lately experimenting with more audio work. Besides Empires Crumble (the 19th episode of which will release tomorrow), I’ve started recording readings of my own and others’s works. The aforementioned essays are both available read in my voice on Soundcloud (see below embeds for these), and I’ve also recorded my piece “Your Face is a Forest” and my friend Hunter Hall’s poem, “All Hail The Runners.” (Note–those links go to youtube videos of the audio recordings).
Future readings will be appearing first on my Patreon page before being included in other streams. The next planned reading is an excerpt of the speech I gave which became the title of my third book (Witches in a Crumbling Empire).
And for those of you on Facebook, which I guess with the worldwide quarantines is now everyone, I’ve done a few live videos entitled “Ask A Gay Druid Anarchist Anything.” That platform doesn’t really allow for good scheduling and alerts when the next one occurs, but if you catch one you can literally ask me anything. And I get shirtless half-way through each. And the aforementioned man has appeared in the most recent one, pink briefs covering his rather nice ass.
Speaking of ass, there’s also my Instagram profile, where my own happens to appear. But here’s that photo again, in case you’re not feeling like searching it out:
As I said, I’m giving less time to making sense of things and just sensing things. That particular photo was one manifestation of that work. There’s also perhaps a few videos of other sensual things happening, none of which can be posted or linked here lest this blog get flagged as an adult-only blog.
The world’s ending, or one version of it is, anyway. Having spent too much of my life on things that, eventually, end up being senseless, I suspect feeling things is probably the best way to celebrate it all.
I imagine I’m not alone.
I hope this post finds you well. More coming soon, including another chapter of The Provisioner and another installment in Starting From The End.
Much love,
–Rhyd
Rhyd Wildermuth 