written spoken, flash frags, cases on film... walls that open to oceans and worlds of intensely personal experience; many times expressionlessly expressed. as in shock. as in out-of-body. as in automaton.
words about walls, sometimes comforting, many times predatory. always alive and breathing.
boundaries, safety, deep disturbance,ruins, songs and silence in motion, in choreographed harmony. walls that open to ocean. walls to uncover. to waves upon waves.. to dissolve.

first ourside with karinne, a caricature of a chef, a sign on her chest about goldfinch wall. 'your stomach will improve.."
i thought something in the past had upset her stomach..
was it the wallpaper that burned? wondering, wondrous, prosaic.. a touch of mystery and warmth on a cool summer eve. 'i have come from afaarr..' my kind of language.

heart. open. curious. we are led to the hallway, hanging words, soon to be echoed, some magnified off the page..
two women. karinne and kate. white cropped hair, black cropped hair. the contrast of the tarot high priestess.

through the permeable wall to the inner chamber. i love circles. we witnessed our story on the periphery, in the center, on the edges..

post trauma. altered states of awareness. scenes of clinical, analytical flowing into and beyond the walls.. of body, room, mind constructs..
returns to fragments. to Adam Gordon Griswald. the inspecter.

people, caring people, come to help to fix the wrecked kitchen, the belly of the building.. but they keep their eyes closed until they feel it will be something they want to see..

words are small.. spinning fast.. or lost in echo.. background music is communicative.. many phases from comic annoyance through neurosis to heart-breath.

she wasn't even six.

Adam was off.

the last song by the two wall/pillars; bellies flattened to the earth. voices of the innocent. pure.

we didn't understand too much with our minds.. my friend judith, a woman in black who came back from iraq altered.. said 'i feel as if a big spoon was put into a pot and stirred things up in me..'

davida luminabes (loom in ahb ay)
at 13 i was practicing yoga with lillias, sorting through visions and studying the mystics. in the mid seventies as a respected vocalese performance writer/recording artist i was also licensed in holistics, founded a practice and eventually a center i named "Healing Arts"; this was then original. today, ordained and a shamanistic veteran, i sing and wildcraft and dwell in woodland valley.