Tag Archives: Evolution

Under The Canopy Of Zeus


We are surrounded by arcs of light, spheres of confluence and influence, yet we fail to collectively notice the brilliance, the animate force within and without. The genius loci of the local expressions, the moss on stone holds the truth of your memories, mirrors for the moment. Cosmic radiations reflecting photosynthetic gradiations, the macro-scopia needs the micro-scopia as much as the micro-neisacs needs the macro-nesiacs. The world(s) needs your attention, your directed gaze, your passionate intensities. So lay down your qualms, your arms, your worries and doubts, cross reference the books with the trees, and the trees with the books. Invaluable is the imaginative—generative— creative—compassionate—reciprocal—investigative—logical processes of the universe becoming known. On the seventh day, when we rest our beliefs our conceptualizations of what we thought we knew with what is becoming known.

-Joshua Fleming

Image by: Unknown, Nikola Tesla is quietly reading under the canopy of Zeus, storms of activity, thoughts electric becoming known.




Are we racing back towards our beginning, entranced in futures-past, is tomorrows technology the high priestess, the culmination point, is time seeding itself from branch to root, from the earth to the heavens, are we working our way back through the archives of an encrypted code entombed in the earth to establish telemetry within the heavens or are we moving forward through the heavens to re-establish communications within the earth. Will we stay within digital dreams forever or settle back into analog notions, could we be entangled in-between two strings, not knowing which end to untie and which to tie together.

If the shoe fits don’t where it.

Time bending upon the axis of a circle squared.

Tripping over the laces of reality.

Walking without rhythm the bear feet feel the drum of the earth.

Yet wearing the socks of logic makes winters frost warm the toes.

The square gives pause and boundary to the circles curvature.

Cornering on the right angles of reason.

Walking in step to feel the measure of the heavens.

Paradox, the Mighty-ReArranger. The end. Or possibly just the beginning.

-Josh Fleming

Image by: Jorinde Voigt


Driving Home


In the valley of a pathless night, who will remain? Dressed in sweet honey, fiery hearth of new life, drunk on what is left to behold. I dreamt of a god, cloaked in song, eternal markets hum, the smile of a mind salient, lifted in perceptual tone. The mythic current of sonic textures re-establishes its connection. Death is only with what cannot follow, without its ragged edge we would wither, the unknown is the imaginative force. The mortal soil is the generative phenomenon of evolutions curse, to bury its dead, is to bathe in rebirth, in baptisms of solitude. Within the emotive breath of this song a memory conjures that is not my own.  

-Josh Fleming

Inspired by: Buckethead, Whispers Way and Coupon and words remixed and recycled from The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart.

Image by: Unknown

Failure To Communicate


This is not a place to spoil and rot, heaven has seeded such bounty, it grows out from within all things. Patient are the small gods, yet their wrath is a horrorshow, bloody pools of darkend memories still clutch the back of the cave. Respect reciprocates respect, compassion resuscitates wisdom. Blunted blades can slay no rough beast, we must face the animal with tooth and nail. Wrestle it down from its high perch, tame its fire, remove its cowering shell. Left stripped of all its defense, so it may become apart of its story, rather than be a part of its failure. A scattered fossil, or a living relic, let us not be a mistake in evolutions craft.

-Josh Fleming

Image by: Morgan Herrin


46 & 2


The evolution of the universe has discovered a process, a process whereby it can view itself, from the inside looking out and the outside looking in. Gathered from the dust of stars and the ashes of this earth, the many conscious observers grow out of her womb to bow before the sun, as the light guides them through. The holy gift, the ancestors pass along the instructions coiled in sacred scrolls, our bodies contain the language of creation. Our appearance before the precipice, to walk upon vast lands, to watch, wait and listen, to grow within the system. To be emissaries of light and form or become the conscious detractors, falling from grace, the natural order found within the chaos. 46 and 2 is waiting, we must evolve to continue with the process.

– Josh Fleming

Image: Watson and Crick