Out here in the stormy dark, I admire these bright dendrites that poke the sky. Sometimes they come to the ground and poke about down here.
I want to mimic their behavior, because I know that my home’s electricity was once like that: a wild creature called a Lightning. The energy that now entertains my home, once upon a time, was energy that dashed freely in the sky, and poked about in long, dramatic dashes. History tells me that this happened in a distant era, a time when only the sky possessed electricity, when few people even imagined it could be harnessed. But then came a day when tall people gathered together beneath the sky and netted full groups of these wild creatures, pinned them to the ground. They brought them to insulated camps where they tamed them and taught the electricities to poke obediently at particular things throughout Society.
They were heroes, these ancient people, higher than nature.
My intention is different than theirs. Mine is an intention described by learning, by respect. My intention is to mirror, on the ground, the welkin paths of this Lightning, and so conceive a map that can effectively lead me to a more skillful treatment of my home’s electricity, a treatment that I can describe as uniquely my own.
To achieve this: I gather stones and arrange them in ways which describe, as best I can, the fierce dashes that still, on occasion, bedevil the sky. When these stones become scarce, I ferret them from rocky crannies, I disinter them from the soil, I find them wherever I can. None of these stones ever bore so much purpose as they do today, under my guidance.
In the end the stones are lines that meet one another pointedly. Just by looking, it occurs to me that what I’m seeing is in fact the very picture of Utility. This is my discovery: without such cooperation among its seemingly chaotic parts, the talents of electricities would likely remain abortive.
When I then look up and see how the Lightnings continue to move: I see that their movements agree with the stones, and so I’m sure that I’ve achieved an understanding. At last, I’m ready to proceed.
My very newest friend accompanies me to my electrified apartment, and secures the latch behind us. We’re excited, here. When she and I stand at my apartmental center: my electricity forms from us a circle, and for this reason: any motion we invoke from ourselves will become necessarily a motion toward electricity. The circle is docile and accommodates us however we move. In truth, we could’ve selected any locus we’d wanted to, and always that locus would’ve become the center of the electricity’s interest, insofar as our end object was our use of that electricity.
What options we have! Just standing here, we can always obtain what we want. We smile, knowing.
To illustrate for us our shared understanding: the electricity captures our appreciation and returns it to us renewed. It matches our appreciation with an appreciation for us. When we offer to the electricity our potential food: it shocks that food into a new sort of realization, to be celebrated and savored. And when we want the electricity to shock other things: it obliges us in a similar fashion.
I’ve noticed that my tamed electricity can be enhanced by specialized contraptions. The ones I’ve installed about the kitchen tend to exercise the electricity in creative ways, and the output from each is always distinct. By means of the contraptions: I’m able to urge my electricity into new performances which change me in turn. Our relationship easily becomes a playful, practical game.
The electricity considers its strategies covertly behind smooth, opaque walls. Every day, my friend and I brew strategies, and each time the electricity seems inspired by our clever applications, responding with dazzling tactics of its own. We entertain one another generously, this way.
We have fun.
Teasingly, my friend and I open the door to the back stairwell, shut ourselves within, and stand giddily restrained on the landing. In the near-darkness we bite our lips and clasp arms, girl and boy together, eyes focused upon the thin strip of color that leaks to us from under the door. Behind this door: the electrified apartment awaits our re-emergence. We keep it waiting, maintaining the tension. At just the right moment one of us will open this door but we’ll burst in together, and the room will burst back upon us with equality, laughing.