Threshold Wound

Field Notes. Entry Three

Scenic Route / October 2025

Field_02 —

Shot, but not yet gone

the body whispers its truth,

threshold breath of life.

I dreamt of a bullet and a delay.

A near-miss that wasn’t.

Forty-five minutes of disbelief before the body confessed the truth:

I’d been opened.

The stomach — that quiet compass.

Struck where instinct lives,

where we hide our hungers and our fear.

Not fatal yet, only waiting.

When I called for help, the voice said, come now,

you’re on the edge of what can still be saved.

Maybe it wasn’t death calling, but awareness

a reminder that even endurance has a limit,

and that creation, like the body, needs tending.

Every project, every journey, every mark we make

asks for something in return:

rest, breath, a hand pressed over the wound

until it learns to close.

Scenic Route is a study in slow craft and quiet repair, garments and thoughts stitched together across time…. In every stitch, a mark.