welcome back—!
the space battle wears on, arrival stories
-Elegance is arriving somewhere without a commute story-
I write to you from winter's end. The daffodils are finally cracking through the cold dirt here, a turn that brings this lovely cycle back to it's verdant green liberation. I would like to say that I've been changing the world, existing casually & carefree in gold filigree and red velvet, turning to the wind and other powers at play here for guidance-- but I think taking long walks, unnecessary bus rides, and stacking rocks here and there suffices for a little poet like myself.
Sometimes, when I walk, I remind myself that nobody else has taken exactly the same steps I've taken to get here-- or wherever "here" is in the present moment-- and for that reason, I should keep these steps precious, hold them close to my chest, guard them. I think, sometimes, it's a masochistic thing to disregard your arrival story.
I am shamelessly pursuing many answers right now, many of which have to do with my upcoming publication: questions of identity, purposefulness, intention, and sacrifice. Perhaps this is my ascension, I think, pushing a blueberry tart around a plate. Or perhaps not. I have found meaning in new moments of arrival. Arrival is the new departure, and I find I enjoy stepping into a threshold when I'm not quite done with the former; is this what growth means?
All things grow / All things go.
Since I've carved this little digital footprint on the internet with the intention of establishing a place where my creative agency can flourish, I am extremely honored and excited to discuss something I've been working on for a while. In early editions of my manuscript, I confronted myself dangerously with the task of a speedy paperback. Publishing, and editing, has been difficult, so has identifying exactly how long this piece has taken to alight into fruition; I would say, as my first publication, The Space Battle Wears On marks eighteen years of work.
I am publishing a story; I do not know when.
I have a manuscript; I do not know how.
I have a voice; I do know this.
I have urgency; I do know this.
The Space Battle Wears On is a funny little thing, I think. If you're familiar with my writing, I think it'll be fun. Most of the poems are copied from the content published here, which I will always consider to be the real, and true version. Publishing requires certain conventions I did not follow, and will not follow, when I write for this website, and for myself. It's been like a cruel game of hide & seek, where weak metaphor after obscene phrase after archaic spelling after questionable perspective follow one another in a blind dance across the continuum.
Until I hammer all of those out, please enjoy a copy of the manuscript, which will be made available here soon.
The space battle wears on,
MC
I write to you from winter's end. The daffodils are finally cracking through the cold dirt here, a turn that brings this lovely cycle back to it's verdant green liberation. I would like to say that I've been changing the world, existing casually & carefree in gold filigree and red velvet, turning to the wind and other powers at play here for guidance-- but I think taking long walks, unnecessary bus rides, and stacking rocks here and there suffices for a little poet like myself.
Sometimes, when I walk, I remind myself that nobody else has taken exactly the same steps I've taken to get here-- or wherever "here" is in the present moment-- and for that reason, I should keep these steps precious, hold them close to my chest, guard them. I think, sometimes, it's a masochistic thing to disregard your arrival story.
I am shamelessly pursuing many answers right now, many of which have to do with my upcoming publication: questions of identity, purposefulness, intention, and sacrifice. Perhaps this is my ascension, I think, pushing a blueberry tart around a plate. Or perhaps not. I have found meaning in new moments of arrival. Arrival is the new departure, and I find I enjoy stepping into a threshold when I'm not quite done with the former; is this what growth means?
All things grow / All things go.
Since I've carved this little digital footprint on the internet with the intention of establishing a place where my creative agency can flourish, I am extremely honored and excited to discuss something I've been working on for a while. In early editions of my manuscript, I confronted myself dangerously with the task of a speedy paperback. Publishing, and editing, has been difficult, so has identifying exactly how long this piece has taken to alight into fruition; I would say, as my first publication, The Space Battle Wears On marks eighteen years of work.
I am publishing a story; I do not know when.
I have a manuscript; I do not know how.
I have a voice; I do know this.
I have urgency; I do know this.
The Space Battle Wears On is a funny little thing, I think. If you're familiar with my writing, I think it'll be fun. Most of the poems are copied from the content published here, which I will always consider to be the real, and true version. Publishing requires certain conventions I did not follow, and will not follow, when I write for this website, and for myself. It's been like a cruel game of hide & seek, where weak metaphor after obscene phrase after archaic spelling after questionable perspective follow one another in a blind dance across the continuum.
Until I hammer all of those out, please enjoy a copy of the manuscript, which will be made available here soon.
The space battle wears on,
MC
MADDOX CHRISTIAN / ONLINE WRITTEN PORTFOLIO
Updated for spring 2023
grab some tea, put a record on, open the windows, and enjoy: