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

Thursday, January 10, 2013

this body will be the death of me

when asked in interview by eleanor wachtel about his near death experience from a serious car accident in 1999, robert hughes, the late australian art critic, said how life looked afterward.  he said life looked wonderful.  he was so glad to be alive because he thought that he had seen the other side and it wasn't heaven and it wasn't hell, it was just nothing; it was a vacuum, a complete suppression of consciousness, the loss of everything one loves. cause if there's one thing he knows, as he said he was sure everybody knows, it's consciousness.  (hear full interview here)
 
 
 

 

 


10 comments:

  1. funny... there are those who would argue that the loss of everything, is indeed heaven.

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    1. and funnily enough i wholeheartedly agree with each opinion.

      xo
      erin

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  2. makes me think of that state between sleep and awake, when you have those dreams and you speak out loud and you could swear you are awake...i have those imaginings that there is a bird or a giant bug in my room, and years ago i would tell my partner, it's real, it's real. they say when you sleep deeply your body is similar to paralyzed, to force itself to rest...i hope i always wake up, but if i don't, that i've lived awake well...

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    1. the dream state - yes, aimee. yes. i imagine we are always fluctuating within it, sometimes more convinced than others, bound within our bodies, pushing beyond our bodies, only able to think at all because of our bodies, damning our bodies for tying us so.

      xo
      erin

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  3. the paradox of the body is that it is our death -- we all know this, don't we? -- and so some of us pull away, lack the bravery to consider the body honestly, and there are deep cultural strictures against looking too closely, against showing. but i think living in the real world means, among other things, never forgetting that we carry death inside our skins and breathing always in this awareness ...

    but there is another side to the paradox (which is what makes it a paradox, after all). while we carry death in our bodies, our bodies carry us toward life, toward the most serious kinds of pleasures, toward joy -- even toward the spirit, which we could never know if it were not tangled in these lovely, messy machineries

    the photos say a lot about this paradox, i think. how vulnerable this offered body seems as it fades to outline and suggestion and fog ... and yet how beautiful, how strong in its persistence and in its being offered, our potential for meeting in the flesh ... i don't refer to "beauty" lightly, either -- rather beauty in this sense is the embodiment (embodiment) of the paradox, the body's yearning to balance at that fine point where the descent to death and the rise to joy intersect, pivot, become indistinguishable ....

    love :-)))

    .

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    1. james, yes! always the paradox. the paradox seems to be the knot, the knot the juncture between, and it all threatens to become undone, and it all threatens to be made right there at that particular and singular unpinnable spinning spot. our death slides directly into our living, our living directly into our death and at the juncture of the paradox here we are being. we can not afford shyness at our being. we can not afford fear. if we think we can then we spend our lives without touching our lives.

      essentially, ESSENTIALLY we are vulnerable. jesusgod we must lay down our pretending otherwise.

      oh, you put it so beautifully in your last paragraph, "how vulnerable this offered body seems as it fades to outline and suggestion and fog ... and yet how beautiful, how strong in its persistence and in its being offered, our potential for meeting in the flesh ... i don't refer to "beauty" lightly, either -- rather beauty in this sense is the embodiment (embodiment) of the paradox, the body's yearning to balance at that fine point where the descent to death and the rise to joy intersect, pivot, become indistinguishable ...."

      i don't know how it is that i was born with the internal mission to cause this to be known but it is perhaps my fundamental gear and so my poor family, my poor friends, the poor people who dare to come here. i feel as though i am naked in a dirty puddle. you understand how small i am and inconsequential but even as such i can not help but beg of people to find that indistinguishable point, that intersection between being and non-being and how it manifests itself in this body.

      such gratitude that you take my small personal dabblings as serious. they are all i have.

      xo
      erin

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  4. a simple truth - we slowly realize this essence as we age...

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  5. ollie, you can't begin to imagine how this pleases me, that you should say that it is so simple. ha! it is! and yet it remains so complicated for us to understand.

    xo
    erin

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  6. "rather beauty in this sense is the embodiment (embodiment) of the paradox, the body's yearning to balance at that fine point where the descent to death and the rise to joy intersect, pivot, become indistinguishable" - what could one add to this, i wonder...



    Out breath
    and in breath—
    know that they are
    proof that the world
    is inexhaustible.


    Ryokan

    (i can only hug you, tight, fiercely)


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  7. roxana, no, we can't add anything. it is perfection.))) (he has this ability like rilke did,although i know he would reject this.)

    please, hold and hug what little there is and i will of you in return))))

    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))