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Communities, like children, play as they create a structure in which they can live. This has been quite an experience creating a hypertext poem, with first one of us leading, then another, none of us quite knowing where any of it is going. No, that's not true. Michael keeps reminding us that we gotta have faith, but jeanne's tired and has been hegemonically assaulted by technology that won't cooperate. It is through such play that we discover the things we do - well - and things we avoid at all costs.

I wonder what our photos would look like if someone elicited the story of our poem?

Well, for now, here's our diary:

• Jeanne, Monday, April 26, at midnight:

  It's midnight again. We gotta quit meeting like this. For some reason I can't upload poemhyp26.htm, but the same material is on femstyle01.htm I put that on this week's issue under news.

  Now, I am going to bed. the red queen

  falling through a hole
  into some kind of land

  wonderland, wonderland, wonderland

  Is there any reason for doing this in all of wonderland?

• Michael, Tuesday, April 27, around noon. Jeanne picked it up around two p.m.

  Greetings,
  To question is to wonder
  to wonder the divine mind
  the mind will find
  order and purpose
  or just bathe itself in the great white light
  of creation
  we all have sacred contracts
  deals we made before flesh incarnate
  some we live out in a day
  some may take every breath we make
  or the compact with those who will give not take
  perhaps it's done for one and other
  or maybe there is another
  reason while you toil
  and seek the oil
  for lamps burning bright
  taking you through the night
  a small drop which burns for days
  in the end we disappear into the mist and haze
  clarity
  sanity
  humanity
  the thinking mind won't quit
  the grail
  the cup
  will run over
  and not amuck
  nip n tuck you bring possibility
  hope
  vision
  energy
  hope
  wisdom
  clarity hope did i mention
  hope
  so big this wide world
  so amassed and amazing
  the fragile eggshell mind of those who have not
  thought
  overwhelmed
  blind sided
  grasping groping
  for a single thread
  go back to bed
  blessed sleep
  morpheus take me
  it's all too much
  yet hope
  prevails
  and a glimmer of a new dawn
  where the sun is brighter
  the air fresher
  the taste of life sweeter
  the hand maiden of the goddess
  ushers in
  a paradigm shift
  slow to take hold
  too, many alien, cold
  can't be told
  must like the chrysalis, unfold
  yours the minds to mold
  consciousness like a great blanket holds
  till you shake the edge
  the ripple
  rolls across the repose
  of the sleeper
  some awake
  some the ripple merely pervades the dreams
  and plants the seeds
  harmony
  balance
  peace
  love
  you
  we
  i

• Jeanne, Tuesday, April 27, around noon.

  I'm up, at last. Feel better. Took three aspirin and half a mg or mcg or whateever of ativan last night and growled at Arnold through the entire end of The Secret Garden, which I like, and which he had been watching over and over and over. "If you look at it right the whole world's a garden." Bah, humbug.

  About midnight I began to worry that I didn't know how to edit the poem down to a really good gallery show. Surprise, surprise. So this morning I figure it'll just be our first gallery internet piece, and i'll edit what I can and not worry about what I can.t. That file poemhyp26 almost drove me crazy. It's a good file, on women's style. Maybe I can fix it. But I think I'll take a coke to bed and watch the end of JAG with Arnold.

  love and peace and risk sucks when you're tired jeanne

• Susan, around 10:30 a.m.Tuesday, April 27.

  to get some "good dog, good dog" outta of it (isn't that reason enough?)

  susan

  Susan's answering from midnight the night before. But I picked it up after Michael's message. Notice that time swirls around insanely in this process. jeanne

• Pat, around 10:15 a.m.Tuesday, April 27.

  As I told Susan yes there is a reason and it is not only for good dog.

  Hmmm. Data. Now if we could make heads or tails of the analysis this might tell us something. I know, I know, I did it for a "good dog." Alfie Kohn, forgive me. jeanne

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