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

Monday, June 24, 2013

on and on we go. Meanwhile,

it's simple,


god says.


my gift to you is distance.

8 comments:

  1. i like to imagine, on the far side of the lake, the living and the dead making the tiniest of gestures - a slight smile or a frown. and i feel, as i do, that not knowing makes everything beautiful, that it is a gift.

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  2. i swear, it is the hardest gift to give. more than time, patience, understanding. sigh.

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  3. I feel the way Krista does (if I take her right).

    But I know how important space is, and so, I learn in increments.

    My grandson left today after more than a week with us (also with his mama and dada). I do not want him distant. But one day he will be independent, and he will create his life. So thrilling, and so mystifying too.

    These images with this text are tremendous (as they always are here).

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  4. I ache being far away from those I love: my younger daughter, my only granddaughter, my mama...so much pain that it rips my heart out. And it takes money...buckets of money to fly or even drive. It wasn't supposed to be this way for me. It just was not!!! Fuck that shit about 'absence makes the heart grow fonder"! That's a cruel sentence. I love you, my friend, and am going through hell right now. Sorry.... xoxo

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  5. first we have distance from god, are separate from one another in terms of body and then we are distant in terms of time but each time there is distance, even between the thing and the image of the thing, or the word and the thing, a gap opens up for possibility. this is where life takes place.

    andreas, our sweet sweet ignorance, eh:))) yes, i kiss it too, despite my desire to breach the distance. i know it can't really be breached until i am completely undone, or i will become completely undone if i ever manage to breach it. rest assured, i have a wealth of ignorance:)

    krista, i think of yves bonnefoy's poem still blind and i think of god tenderly and achingly removed from the possibility that we live, bound in the all, while we get to walk around inside the distance clamouring for closure, when we have just begun.

    but i think you refer to a different kind of distance. it is a tough one in the living life with people, but it seems the more distance we grant, the more closeness we garner. we all need that sanctuary to feed the spirit.

    ruth, what a profoundly beautiful time, to witness this little one. i long for such opportunities.

    rosaria, indeed.

    marion, i'm sorry for your pain. damn. can there not be a cheaper solution? i want to pack your car and drive you. (cling to all of your love and creativity and perhaps the world will surprise you with something as of now unseen.)

    xo
    erin

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  6. the dichotomy between colour, such gorgeous pink, my god, my little one would shout with joy just by the sight of such pink :-) - between colour and the dark of the shadow, almost black yet not black, something more tearing than black, because hues of the coloured world are still there - this is the endless play of distance and closeness, of coming and going, of seeking and losing... or no?

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  7. like your photo and blog!!
    Nice.

    Corrado
    Diecimilionidipixel.blogspot.com

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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))