On the full moon
“The moon doesn’t actually change,” explained crow. “It’s how we see it that does.”
Thoughts while making
Words are funny, aren’t they? Like containers, they hold meaning. But they also shape memories, create stories. Even the most common can conjure. And distort. And delight. That complex link of prefrontal cortex, hippocampus, and brain stem turning an everyday word into, well, something more.
Take “corn,” for example. It doesn’t get more basic, does it? Fiber and folate. Four letters, three constants and a vowel. But nothing is as it seems anymore, is it? So, when I wondered why tonight’s full moon was called the “Corn Moon,” I shouldn’t have been surprised by what happened next.
According to the Maine Farmer's Almanac, Algonquin peoples coined the term “Corn Moon."
Algonquin made me think of Ken, my mentor and friend, and his book, “The Solidarity of Kin: Ethnohistory, Religious Studies and the Algonquin-French Religious Encounter.”
Ethnohistory made me think of David Shorter, a fellow ASU grad and friend, and his book, “We Will Dance Our Truth: Yaqui History in Yoeme Performances.”
Dancing made think of Margaret, my Mama and friend, and her book “In Sweet Company: Conversations with extraordinary women about living a spiritual life” that has a beautiful painting of dancing women on the cover.
Extraordinary women made me think of Janey Gidion, her daughter and my friend of 30 years, who lives by the motto, “Love me, love my curves.”
Curves made me think of the winding road from Bend, OR to Mt. Bachelor and that time I snowshoed alone under the full moon, marveling at snow lit like diamonds, pine tree shadows cast across a sea of white in the dead of night.
Shadows made me think of this mobile that joins five others on their way to Merchant Modern, where it will eventually become part of another’s vocabulary, to begin again – shaping, creating, conjuring something more.
In the spirit of words, what’s one of your favorites?