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

Monday, September 30, 2013

this world, this feather, this mouth: grinding the lens

it is not to wag a flag that we make art, if art is what it is that we make.  it is to be here. 

Spinoza ground lenses to afford himself the breadth to think and write.  i wake and lay into the side of my spirit in the hopes of grinding this lens of my being.  perhaps i will only ever create lowly things which might afford a moment for the world to show herself as the world.  if this be my poverty, then i am rich.

i wake up.  i find a feather touched with dew.  i wake up further. 

it is at least another hour before i break free from the reverie of feather.

i don't know what it is that i have learned but i know that i've learned something.

i am conflicted about posting here but then i am conflicted in life about a great deal.  my last post was to (perhaps) have been the last, however, i find i have no conflict with the feather and i am driven madly to sing her.


  1. Etre en conflit avec un grand nombre de personnes est le lot de bien des gens et j'ai vécu cette situation.Pour mon bonheur, tu t'entends parfaitement avec moi et j'attends aussi bien tes photos noir et blanc( comme cette série sur la possibilité de la lumière à transformer les choses. Ces plumes sont sublimes, photographiées par toi. J'espère que cet état n'atteindra pas tes qualités de cœur, ton pouvoir d'aimer, d'émouvoir en photographiant.
    Ta façon d'écrire, de m'écrire est aussi singulière, émouvante, parlante et je t'en remercie ici. Je t'embrasse bien amicalement et te souhaite de ne pas changer ta vision du monde, il y a au moins une personne à qui ça plait, moi.
    A très bientôt, Erin.


  2. I understand this. Too much to bear, though it helps me that you bear it too.

    Madness for the feather (like the sumac, I think), and for a growing grandchild, or daughter, the being of being.

    And I feel desperately sad today. And yet, all this, all these diamonds are here for us to bear, as evidence.


  3. I understand your conflict, I'm in that situation periodically. Post not to publish?, Why post? I leave it a season then quietly back in general because I do not want to part with some views that I like, that I find disturbing, I am surprised, they catch me. Your inputs are different, when you do not understand the meaning I try intuit it, insurance often wrong but never mind me perceive your sensitivity and I can be wrong too.
    If you decide to let it be a wise decision and if you decide to follow will also be successful. You see I'm no good at resolving conflicts.

    If you have time I recommend the movie The Mill and The Cross director Lech Majewski, has nothing to do with a conflict but it is beautiful and quiet and I like my friends part of what I like.

    A hug

  4. I am glad that you have sung this feather;that she "woke" you so that you in turn could decide to waken us.
    I understand your conflict...
    Thank you.

  5. Coming to your blog is like coming home to a world I've never been but instantly puts me at ease. There is beauty in it all, big and small and granular and macro and ....?


  6. Oh erin, erin mi amiga. every moment is the last until the next moment
    conflict is present at every turn if that is how one wishes to identify each moment

    the grinding of the soulful lense and your wishing that the world show itself to you, is Life's sojourn. the 'lowly', is one's perspective and value judgement yet 'All' is of the same value

    this piece rings of 'The Book of Disquiet' by Fernando Pessoa

    you've given great 'lowly' value to the feather and in return you've also
    gained a 'lowly' moment,

    i hope, if only for selfish reasons, this not be your last

    Gracias, mi amiga

  7. By the way, beautiful, beautiful photography :-)

  8. I love not only the feather, the last photo looks like eyelashes, but your self portrait as well.

    Deb blogging now as lily cedar. I can't quit this either:)

  9. I get conflicted too. I walk away, but cautiously wander back.


"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))