The details of this moment affectionately and reverentially referred to as NOW, and The Now, rising, rising, rise in a ceaseless dance that is our embodiment, is being a body, the life and the living, the spark that sets the heart to beating in the dark, in the structured mansion shaped by ribs. The heart fuels the vibration so that the voice can rise above its pulse and flow, and this is now and now is past. Oh there's not a one of us that is not a creative; indeed that is all we are.  That is what we do beyond the bubbled thoughts, ideas, opinions, concepts. We are being. We are in process, are a process, a mass of movement and flow that will one day, based on the evidence that I've seen, come to host all manner of life until we are liquid and bones when all else has flown, gone back to the origin, called by God, gods, the Great Mother or turned to dust, plucked by buggers whose own being is pure dance rising from space and through the potent gap to become a woman, a leaf, a grain of sand, a badger or a porpoise, a thin cloud, the yelp of a dog stretched through the cold air,  a community of trees, the shadow of a fish.