Today I embark into the ether into a deep black box of a writing practice. Deep black box adorned of Pandora's will. In other words, I am starting my formal writing practice. It lives here, in the moss corpus.I don't feel like capitalizing this title as to not draw too much attention towards myself as to keep this corpus an entity alone. Mind you, the author who keeps the moss corpus could attribute their own traits.
Introducing this site feels like announcing I am leaving a room before I open the door and saunter out pompously in front of a group of people, so please imagine you are reading this in a small crevice you find in a forest soaking the light that is peaking through lichen plastered tree trunks. No one is here. No one perceives the text that is swanning across the page except for you.
I own a large middle aged cat, Julius, and he is sitting astutely appearing to be waiting for these words to fill my text editor. He judgingly looks at me with his half lit eyes, as if it is natural to just know what to say in a situation like this. "It is a corpus of moss, Julius." I mutter. "How is this not clear?"
Image Reference: The Voynich manuscript is an illustrated codex hand-written in an otherwise unknown script, referred to as 'Voynichese'. The vellum on which it is written has been carbon-dated to the early 15th century (1404–1438), and stylistic analysis indicates it may have been composed in Italy during the Italian Renaissance. The origins, authorship, and purpose of the manuscript are debated. Various hypotheses have been suggested, including that it is an otherwise unrecorded script for a natural language or constructed language; an unread code, cypher, or other form of cryptography; or simply a meaningless hoax.