Spent my Sunday mixing up new soil with my dad!
1 part Bonzai Jack succulent mix, 1 part perlite, 1 part cactus and succulent soil, and 3 parts aquarium substrate porous clay. I think it looks pretty good!
Everyone trains hard, everyone burns the wick down to the nub. When I talk about #substrate in these posts I’m usually thinking of some kind of organic cultural material, something a little like Bourdieu’s habitus, but his habitus lacks weight, it lacks the Substance. The substance is necessary because the substrate is what is inscribed upon, it’s the wax tablet that carries the inscription of our actions and our intentions, in a veritable communication. When I see this photo, which is so precious to me --- Sylvie in clinch, but also in grasping embrace of her fighting hero, a fighter who possesses so much of the freedom she wants for herself, so much that she’s hurled over 200 fights into the abyss so far, and planning more than 200 more such sacrifices, to fill it up, to build a make shift bridge of fight carcasses --- and she’s placing her heard in the shoulder nook, a location which has been hard for her to find in technique when things are really flying, even fiber of her being telling her to pull out, to take distance, to make gaps...and she’s placing her head there, almost endearingly. This is the #substrate here, the folding of desire to BE, and to become, to throw oneself forward into a space that does not exist yet, in the hopes that the space assembles itself around your very act. And all the motions you take in the gym, they are blooming in the inscription of your Self, your true Self, on the #substrate of that desire. You are carving on the thing that is in-between. She is incredible. Clinch is an Art.