Have I already mentioned about repeatable experiences, about tea, the same circle every time? about the ocean: a different way in which the scale of detail helps it be the same later. I tied a barrel sling around my tea yesterday (Haven't settled on which edition of Ashley's Book of Knots to find yet but I hear it's in there under #459, #2176, #2177), imagined lowering it down a backyard hole to a waiting friend. Having tied a knot, or felt one, it's logic is absorbed somewhere, sensitized to it's particular complication. Pulling up bights, in anything [e.g. language], did I call what the bights do 'humanity'?
This question echos weirdly, throwing loops in the rope, hoping at last to hitch onto something. I think I might have.