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

Monday, November 26, 2012

portrait of yearning

from: clear night by charles wright
i want to be bruised by god.
i want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out.
i want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.
i want to be entered and picked clean.

do you understand, this has nothing to do with the body?  do you understand, this is because of the body?  do you understand, it is between me and that which i move toward?  do you understand, this is our condition? 

do you understand, these are not questions.


  1. "i want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out."
    both utterly terrifying to me, and yet compulsively sought in ways.

  2. monica, this is am important point, i think. there is something that resides at the absolute crux of the individual being the individual (you, distinctly you) and the individual giving up his state of being (ego)to be absorbed into the cauldron of the multitude (as milan kundera puts it in Identity). both states are terrifing and yet we have to face, know, accept, and then forget both states.


  3. again from kundera's, Identity:

    "why are we living? to provide god with human flesh."

    and from yvess bonnefoy's, Still Blind:

    "The theologians
    Of that other country
    Deem that God does exist, but is blind.
    That he searches, groping
    Between the narrow walls we call the world
    For a little body crying, floundering
    With eyes still closed,
    That will allow him to see-
    If only,
    With his clumsy hands from before time began, He can open its eyelids...

    No, God does not seek
    Adoration, the bowed forehead, the spirit
    That invokes him, that questions him - no, not even
    The shout of revolt. He simply seeks
    To see, as the child sees: a stone,
    A tree, a fruit,
    The vine below the roof,
    A bird alighting on a cluster of ripe grapes.

    God the eyeless
    Seeks to see the light, at last.
    He the eternal
    Cradles in his hands
    What is fleeting, what cries out,
    Since only what dies has a gaze."


  4. today the tide is low, and in the riverbed the rocks are exposed. and they are just rocks, lo and behold! and so i ask myself, "what do i understand?", and then let go of the question to feel, yet again, blessed in your presence.

  5. Erin I'm really loving your photos, you are special you know this?
    love the pic in the last post too it said a lot.

    I'm not often online in this time, but, when i am i must take a look by you, hope you are well with all dear.

    kiss we see us

  6. to see as a child sees, how refreshing,,,


"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))