not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

so sings the common man

the multitude is cacophonous



however, each solitary




 individual




isolated



unique creature,
is important


4 comments:

  1. it thrills me to see some color here. it makes me want to try harder to open my eyes and my soul. thank you. xo

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    Replies
    1. marion, yes, just this, to try harder to open eyes and soul. i talk myself through this and in each personal opening realize how far i have yet to go. always there is more distance to cross to be present, to be aware.

      i'll try to bring you some colour. i laugh. i thought of you when i posted the next green curtain but then when the second shot came so naturally and so black and white i shook my head. i can't help it. it all seems to happen on its own:)

      xo
      erin

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  2. beautiful photos, and beautiful in their progression ...

    i think perhaps only the individual is real ... the mass is an illusion ...

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    Replies
    1. i don't know, james. i want to say yes, but then i think last night to the storm of blackbirds i saw rise up in the farm field and as i explained to you, at first it seemed two dimensional, a swatch of black lace, but then it all turned, or they turned, or i turned perhaps too and suddenly we were all inside the lace, all of us moving as one organism in every possible direction - with, it seemed, one heartbeat.

      yes, we stop to consider each and every individual, or at least sometimes this is our practice, and we kiss them and it is recognition and love, gratitude, but the whole of the field is perfect and smooth, the solitary shard of wheat sharper then we would imagine.

      sometimes a man or a woman happens by and i see them, a glimpse of the true individual, and other times all faces melt away, all time, and we are but one organism. i think we are both, james. i think we must be both.

      is it an illusion that there are 7.025 billion breathing human beings in the world with weight and influence upon the environment? (i laugh. i expect you might respond, yes, erin, it very well might be.)

      xo
      erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))