today is a day
recount everything you’ve known before
look inside
embrace yourself
take an oath to do no harm
fail with grace
and I am sitting here today. I fail with grace. I look inside… recounting everything I’ve known before. I embrace each moment, each failure. I am loved by myself, so I must be loved, I must be loved, truly… it becomes like a tacky surface for others to easily cling onto when they send that vibration to me and I am grateful we can see and speak to each other, like always.
Sometimes I try to imagine life beyond this one… why I want to remember what it was like before being a physical entity I am not so certain of, but I’m curious none the less, and I remember times when I looked into puddles and thought about it. I have absolutely no idea why puddles specifically but they look like portals to me, and if we are made of water, it makes sense right, to have an instinctual thought like that?
Yesterday, in this physical body, I was putting several plastic trash bags in the bins at my workplace. I had a moment when I touched the plastic bags I thought of all the oil it took to make this, and I imagined I was playing with thick poisonous oil while I opened and lined the plastic trash bins. I thought of the inconceivable amount of people who did the same thing I did that day. Changing a plastic bag, how complicit we are to destroy ourselves, how our habitual nature has devastating consequences.
I watched Love On the Spectrum yesterday with my flatmate, and there was one person who appeared so authentically joyful and I wished every human in the world had autism… sometimes I feel that we may all have autism but we show in so many different ways, that the “typical” people may just mask as a survival mechanism, and those who cannot mask are systematically categorized.
I want an autistic president*, one who is for our greatest good, one who can see from all perspectives, one who is logical… I think I would trust an autistic person to be president more than I would any politician who believes in this current status quo, who is elicit in genocide, who is dehumanising…
*I actually want wise elders, autistic wise elders would be even better.
frequency orange
Laura Hydle, frequency orange, colour marker on a4 printer paper, 2024
i wrote
“frequency 3000”
not really knowing why I specifically put “3000”… it sounded futuristic… like a ride at local county fairs or pop-up “fun parks”.
I know why I said frequency, but now that I try to put it in words, it feels wrong…
I know going further I may not always make sense, but at some point it will make sense, and at some point someone will see this when they need to see this.
sometimes I believe even little things I do, grammar mistakes or sitting on the second floor of a dirty double decker, happens for a divine purpose that may not feel significant in this particular cycle or ever… it feels like a thing one does naturally without trying, like breathing, or growing old, it is like a collective involuntary happening or a collective automatic function designed for our greater good. I am in awe of how absolutely everything makes no sense until it does.
I just remembered why I actually wrote “frequency 3000”… yesterday, I was playing with colours. In our universe we have a particular unique frequency that gives us the wonderful colours I can use to make pictures… Again, no reason why I really used the word 3000, but it is to do with colours and OUR LIGHT, I am specificying another language, a code for who we are, but it is intentional, it is intentional, it is intentional. So when I saw 3000 you know what I mean, and it wouldn’t make any sense for me to say 4000, what street are we on again? oh ya I see the colour orange, we must be in the right place.
…
I have been working with a lady who says the colour “orange” quite often, and so I decided to edit the title, “frequency orange”
transforming
transitioning, settling, into a sort of hibernation, safety, it feels safe. this is it for now.