there is a difficult contradiction in being, in being self realized, in identity/ego - but not ego, please not ego but the debasement of ego.
this is the paradox that we have discussed so many times, and will discus so many times, since it is really the only question that can be asked, in one form or another ... only through self can we overcome self, so what do we do? ... as if being is a vast forest where we each are assigned a tree, and the only way to see beyond or over the forest is to climb, with great effort, our own tree and seek a wide view ...these photographs are erotic in the best and truest sense, the encounter with the Other in likeness and difference, reflection of self and the utter distance from self that combine into an ache at the fingertips, on the lips (all all all of them, and yet the second and the last break me hopelessly:-) ... and how this deepens when the strange and untranslatable Other is simultaneously the Self?? is this not the point of all photographs of beautiful women in mirrors (i.e., that being / world / god meets itself in this way and falls in love)??.
"these photographs are erotic in the best and truest sense, the encounter with the Other in likeness and difference"with this i rest at your feet and wish to say no more.but but but - i have to respond to the next, "is this not the point of all photographs of beautiful women in mirrors (i.e., that being / world / god meets itself in this way and falls in love)??" i have to respond by saying it is true not of women only (all women being beautiful) but of everyone willing to truly stand before the mirror and be revealed. countless times a day when people are willing to show their vulnerability, their humanity, their physical predicaments (always mortal), and their longing, then i am shattered in the light of the Other and do fall in love!and what is love itself if not a mirror of sorts, not necessarily that of ego (self serving), but isn't love the amplification of the presence of god him/her/itself? are we not all here to rise up in song?james, i love you)))) (and so we sing)xoerin
the mirror seems to me an ever-changing picture frame, the documentation of a brief moment in time. Nothing about life or mood is static
and it is a mirror to another mirror and then to our eye, two mirrors present here, but i'm not sure if that is obvious. (the first four shots were into the mirror behind me / in front of me in the last two shots.) and what else do we frame things with? countless frames, countless interpretations, countless translations of the human condition and the individual as well.xoerin
chimaera))) thank you for coming and finding something.xoerin
i laugh with your uppercase excitement. (thank you))i wonder if we always live in the wake of others like alix? certainly i have been affected by her. how much remains me and how much does she inhabit me now? is there any way to ever tell?xoerin
This feels very Francesca Woodman-y...privacy that we are allowed to share. xo
again, one who has passed before. and hannah, how i love her work, her spirit. i feel most decidedly we must get over our issues with privacy. we have too much distance even within our privacy with our own bodies. we do this, i believe, to create distance with our death but an unfortunate consequence is that we also create distance within our living.xoerin
kunst, kult!hilsen dirk
dirk, it might appear so but truly it is only how i live. i strive to live as the tongue of the bell to body. i want to experience the density of the earth and all that that implies and the lightness of spirit.xoerin
I envy your perspective. I was never comfortable with mirrors, with the beauty of the body, with the beauty of being in the body. And so, I can only accept the limitations I put on myself and cry out for what I missed, what I was blind to.(fodder for more thought, more reflection on the nature of existence...)
don't cry out, rosaria, or if you do, dive into that cry and what is on the other side of it!xoerin
Who dares to compare you to another? You are uniquely Erin: pure spirit, poetry, soul & body...a flickering, luminous, exquisite candle in this bleak, dark world. xo"When you possess light within, you see it externally." ~Anaïs Nin
marion, thank you))) this is one point, isn't it, that we can not even emulate one another. i read jacques roubaud's something black about his wife's death, his unanswerable longing and her identity and see that somehow we are each tethered to our individual beings, unreplicable. what is it about the shadows that we cast that are strictly who we are? what can that mean to identity? (who are we?)i saw a woman at my work the other day. physically she was like you but the light she emitted (although i have not met you in body) i knew as different from yours. this woman could not be you although she looked like you. you are most decisively marion:))))xoerin
"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))