Liminal space can be marvelously insightful, sometimes, and sometimes inexplicably vague. I’m often in-between. Lately, the in-between space is a happy one. Newlywed. Nearly finished with the degree. Not yet sure about the physicality of the physical that houses my headspace. New owner of a Nook electronic book reader to replace the pages and pages and pages and now I am falling into pixels everywhere.

Some say that physical and mental discipline work hand in hand. What’s in the liminal space between those two and can I live there, instead?  Dream states are only really found in dreams and in madness; the former is temporary and the latter is not certainly tempting. I’ve started a new program to reshape body, to try and storm up my mind. My headspace is mid-marathon (mid-dissertation), but my body is at the starting line of it’s current journey. The space in between is amorphous, foggy. Life is seldom tidy.

My heart is lit with red neon light. Life is bright with bluebonnets and cream in coffee, held hands and typed characters, energy in the morning light and soft pillows beneath the moon’s bright kind. Life is full of change.

Perhaps, every moment is liminal. Is a pixel anything like an inky line?

It is always the now. Zubenelgenubi and Zubeneschamali. A blue cube in the high of the night. A canopy of black branch shadows on a black sky. A breath, always unfurling from the seedy core of all things into the bright ether of the distant echo of long left lit life.

Whether the world opens. Weather the world, open. A lark-full morning, song and sung, locked, undone and done. Grain and barley, gold as wheat, gold as dawn and dawn’s bright feet along the line beyond my sight. Morning full of morning things — walking, wilting, wandering, looking for another tether and a way to make the waiting wait. Mailbox. Keys. Coffee in a green cup. Electric ants in my toes. It will be a day of pages that require lines of sense, rather than scrawls of it, that shelve the hierophants alongside their mysteries, that demand a clerk’s and not a cleric’s hand. If the leaves could scatter down, they would be anything but Forms.

Unburdened by the knotted ties of sleep, this morning floods into my stark room without apology. My shutters are open to the air, to the sounds of the outside. It is evident that the things inside my studio are in need of rearranging. Soon, settling in will settle into my consciousness as well as my instinct.

It is 97 degrees Fahrenheit outside and dry as the desert we forget this place actually is. I am drinking Pomegranate and Lychee infused Green Tea, slightly frozen so that it is both slush and liquid. It seems that I am finally coming to a place of acceptance of who I am and wanting to embody my actual self, not the self that everyone I love wants me to be. It is easy to deceive oneself and also incredibly unsatisfying. Today, I bought two plants — a bromeliad and a crysanthemum. Bright and alive, I hope that they will reconnect me to the world beyond the paved planes that have blocked me in for the past several years.

I’m preparing to move from this to another domain.

This is a deceptive statement. Literally, I will change internet addresses. Additionally, I am between mind-spaces, cognitive realms. Academically, I’m at the threshold of a new status, grad student melting into ABD student.

The process of preparing for qualifying exams is maddening. I’m not sure it should be. I’m sure it should be. I know it wouldn’t be so frustrating if I had chosen a less ambitious argument. The one I have chosen is the only one I could feel satisfied with choosing. And so perhaps I need my degree to feel earned. I think this is rather masochistic.

I think the only way to feel prepared is to finish the dissertation (in a rough form) beforehand, so that’s my current objective. But I’m taking this weekend off before diving into the work.

Between this coughing and this ghost of a voice, I sound like a choking frog. I’m exhausted. I so don’t want to go to work tomorrow because that will involve way too much talking for way too many hours. I’m so looking forward to Friday, to spending the day finishing my paper at my own desk and being the master of my own time and my own mind.