2026-07-16

Oops. A long gap since I promoted my notes to the webpage. Let's not let that happen again. Back on the train, although I guess I had the excuse of having a child. That's about where it dropped off, isn't it. Hah! It's been bedtime at 9pm ever since then, and before bed was when I'd jot these down. Some disconnected scenes to remember:

On a run I had a vision while a certain song played. I can't recall exactly which one it was, but it was, as usual, a Four Tet 4-hour set I ran to, maybe 2 - 3 hours in. I saw a series of scenes fading from black to vivacity, then to black again, first of Meadow as she is now, dancing with me to this song in our home - fade to black - then her as a 7 year old, dancing again - fade to black - then her as a 13 year old dancing with lights others dancing too - maybe a school dance. I tend to get emotional on runs but this vision made me feel a surge of life. I could picture it as a component of a short film, a coming of age story. It made me want to actually film this, over the course of the next decade. Of course I will document things as they are, but I don't think I'll subject Meadow to actually playing a part in any art not of her doing at this point. That said, tonight before bed she told me she wanted to make a movie! A live action movie, she said. She'd draw me in and take a picture - and that's how she'd make the movie.

She asked me to tell her a story tonight about a tree frog who visited a pond:

Mf'bumba was the tree frog's name. All its life it had lived happily in an old oak tree. It had plenty of bugs on the lower trunk, secret spots where dew collected on the bark, and views of the nearby clearing from the upper branches. Mf'bumba's favorite time was when it rained. The rain would pitter patter against the oak leaves - for tree frogs, this is music. One day, however, the rain did not come. It did not come for three days, and Mf'bumba began to worry. It did not come for two days more, and the spots where the dew collected were dry. On the next day, when rain still didn't come, Mf'bumba was so thirsty that he rolled three young oak leaves and packed them to journey from the tree he had lived in his whole life. The sun rose and he took his first leap away from the tree, when he heard a voice. He looked around. My child - it said. He saw no one - no other frogs, no birds playing tricks. My child - again. It was a low, smooth voice. It is me, your tree mother. I have protected you all your life, and I will protect you on this journey too. In return, you will save this forest. Follow the path behind you, North. Travel always downhill, down down down, the way the water flows. Go until you have given up, then eat one of my leaves and go some more. You will, if you choose the right path, find a lake. Bath and drink - but do not forget. Seek the Lake Godess. Tell her our plight. Tell her we need rain. Mf'bumba nodded and felt a surge of love for his tree mother, whom he had known only as his home until this moment. He followed her directions and ventured North. He followed the hills downward until he felt his legs lose all their strength. Then he remembered the tree mother's words and ate one of her leaves. He felt a drop of strength return, and continued on up a steep hill covered in small stones. When he crested it, he saw below him a pond, glistening like a jewel. His heart soared and he made haste to it. When he arrived he forgot all that had come before. He dove into the pond and felt the cool water bring life back to his skin, his spirit. He drank and laid in the sun, feeling its energy. He almost forgot all that had come before, feeling that warmth upon his now wet again body. But like a wind rustling leaves slowly and then all at once his mind snapped back to the tree mother and he remembered what he must do: he leapt up frantically at first. He needed to find the Pond Goddess! He searched and searched, asking every animal, fish and bug if they knew where to find her. By and by he met an old turtle. She had heard the way, and Mf'bumba was lucky, she said. When the moon was full, one need only to look at its reflection in the pond and call to it: Moon, Pond, Rain - Goddess of three, come to me. The turtle was wise: it was a full moon that night, she said. Mf'bumba found a quiet spot along the pond's bank and fell into a deep meditation as he waited for the sun to sleep and the moon to rise. When it did, it was magnificent - whole and bright like a pure white mushroom after a rain. Rain - Mf'bumba thought, and recalled the turtle's words. He called out: Moon, Pond, Rain - Goddess of three, come to me. The moon's reflection grew brighter, while the moon in the sky dimmed. The frog waited, and just as he began to question if he was simply imagining the shift, he heard the words: yes my child? Moon goddess! I have come, sent from the forest above, by my tree mother. The forest needs you. It is dire! We have had no rain for so long that the forest aches - and I was forced to venture here. Hah! The goddess laughed. Good thing you did! Moon Goddess. Pond Goddess. Rain Goddess. God of three! That is me! Silly silly, I forgot. My mind is elsewhere, full of thought. Your tree mother has you, she worries not. Rain will spill and end the drought! The moon goddess laughed. The rain goddess sang. The pond goddess shimmered. Three and one, she faded away. Thunder boomed in the distance.