Katie Eleanor

Notes on groups, notes on tempests. 

The tempest ceased when I crossed the threshold into The O today. I inhale, hold, and carry it within. Five fasting Hares in a ground floor group room at The O, the first class of the day. In that hour we gather together, and drink directly from the storm. We trap the rain deep in the space behind our eyes, and I feel my bones inherit the thunder, (so now they audibly moan when I twist). I wonder if I also carry spontaneous flashes of white spider’s light, I wonder if my storm can light up a forest and burn down the city?

The storm synchronously lives inside each of the fasting Hares inside the group rooms inside The O. And when the storm spills from us, you should be prepared to run.

I scrutinize Weather (whether), I scrutinize whether (weather) I am a hurricane?

Yes, I am a hurricane. 

The Hares must drink the storm so that the streets surrounding The Marylebone Ribbon Shop may always remain sunkissed, and no one else has to see where Hurricanes live.