“We are an Army of Dreamers”
— Sub-Commandante Marcos, Zapatista Icon
“I shoot torquoise flame out of my butt”
— Me, not so much of an Icon
Recently I’ve been thinking and talking with ancientwisdom about the current “Miasma”, and social ruts with their underlying bad habits, and terrorism, and the poor, overworked Soul Shrinker, and how to spread Faun energy without forcing it on people. From these conversations I had this idea that I’m not going to explain too much because my reasons for participating in it will be very different from other people’s reasons for participating. At the level of praxis and all that…
The communication of my idea borrows from the concepts of Glamour Bombs and Zapatismo, neither of which I know too terribly much about (well, I probably know more about Zapatismo now. I know next to nothing about the Glamour Bomb community). Basically, I’m going to put up a weekly “bombing” assignment, where participants are encouraged to spread good-natured surreality, sublimity, liminality, hybridity, and other such things which break us out of our everyday patterns of thought and habit. They are then encouraged to write about and share their experience here on this journal, for the delight of all (especially for the delight of the writer).
That’s really it. No deep philosophies. No interest in joining other, already existing Glamour Bombing communities. Just a weekly exhortation to put a little magic in the world. To break other people’s habits of mind, and in turn break out of our own.
The Fae Guiding this week’s assignment:
The Master Maker. Do whatever you do as well as you can. And then make it even better. ‘Design beyond your skill, and then raise the level of your skill to fulfill it. Give and accept only the best–and do it with love of your craft, whatever that craft may be.’
This Week’s Assignment:
We are in the cusp between Winter and Spring, so I think we need some flower bombs. When you are at the supermarket this week, buy a little potted flower (the Hyacinths smell particularly nice) or a bunch of cut flowers, and then give them to a random passerby, preferably somebody who looks like they really need flowers.
Have fun, and please post the story of your Glamour Bomb!
(I’ve just realized that with the number of times I’ve written the words ‘bomb’, ‘terrorist’, and ‘Zapatista’ in this post, I’m sure to get tagged by the feds.)