Keirartworks's Blog

hmmm. hmmm?

bound·a·ry

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bound·a·ry
Origin
early 17th century: variant of dialect bounder, from bound2 + -er1, perhaps on the pattern of limitary.
CurbPuddle
Interesting word.
from “bound”
  1. 1.
    a territorial limit; a boundary.
    “the ancient bounds of the forest”
    • a limitation or restriction on feeling or action.
      “it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that the issue could arise again”
    • technical
      a limiting value.
  1. form the boundary of; enclose.
    “the ground was bounded by a main road on one side and a meadow on the other”
    • place within certain limits; restrict.
      “freedom of action is bounded by law”
      pot bound

      pot bound

the word is also almost it’s own opposite:

verb
  1. 1.
    walk or run with leaping strides.
    “Louis came bounding down the stairs”
noun
  1. 1.
    a leaping movement upward.
    “I went up the steps in two effortless bounds”

Bound for glory.

OldCelloScrollEd

bound by…  a promise

It’s bound to happen…

Photo by Dominie McGruer, 2012.  A beautiful place to let go of.

Photo by Dominie McGruer, 2012. A beautiful place to let go of.

Good heavens but life has been intense these past two weeks.  It feels as though we are in the shimmering time between before and soon, when old heavy things rise to the surface to be dealt with in new ways.  There is no getting around it – old things must be dealt with, sorted out, brought to conclusion, ended.  It’s requiring an objectivity from me that I’ve never before had to access, as I watch myself and others involved get triggered, explode from old injuries which just get deeper, react out of panic and fear, escalate, deny, avoid.  As we slowly slowly come to terms with what simply … is.

I have a new respect for good lawyers, who enjoy a certain lightness of being I very much aspire to.  They are the boundary keepers, the good fence builders.  They seek and define common ground, demand of us self respect.

MamaMaple'sArm

I recently spent the night in a forest under an old old maple.  I was there just to listen and watch, though my busy mind often interfered.  There was a root – her foot I thought, sticking up just high enough to be my pillow.  Little insignificant me under the upward and inward gaze of old old she.

I was significant to the mosquitoes, who were there in great number.

Busy mind, mosquitoes in great number… I got a tent.

MamaMaple

Inside the tent, everything outside was muffled, and I was amplified.

Later, the rain came down.

Author: keirartworks

Artist, Musician, Writer, Teacher. Mum to an incredible person, friend to many, Incredibles. Gardener. Thinker. Collaborator. K

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