investigation of self, xi: rudimentary

how few particulars are required to suggest any one person, either in description or in photograph?  what might this mean?

tell me.

(in this i mean to break through the body and beyond the body.  is this body not a veil?)

investigation of the self, x: the yellow flower

the yellow flower leans toward its reflection
if i can only see myself, it says, perhaps i can know myself 
and the world around me

but where does the real yellow flower exist?

where the real world?

investigation of the self, ix: intimacy of self, turning toward sleep

we do not know what it is, can not know what it is, to be beyond our particular bodies.  (as i write this i know the error of this statement, for i have gone beyond this particular body, but it is a rare occurrence, so short in duration and impossible to hold.)

this, and to be defined by our senses through the shield of these particular bodies, and as chase twichell says in her poem, horse, 

i've never seen a soul detached from its gender, but i'd like to.  i'd like to see my own that way, free of its female tethers.  maybe it would be like riding a horse.  the rider's the human one, but everyone looks at the horse.

to be subject to this accidental state of gender which is the fodder on which (through which) we experience all life, there exists the great divisiveness of i, self, and of gender too.

but unhooked, unguarded in the moment of turning toward sleep, relenting our hold on life and allowing life's gentle touch upon us, regardless of gender we are all one thing, human.  we are alive, vulnerable and temporary.

investigation of the self viii: what is it to be you?

what is it to be you?  what is it to be me?


if i am to be honest, and i want to be honest, honesty the shield against the inauthentic life - sometimes i am sad.  there is a great deal to reckon with in this life.  so i tell you that one night while sitting with my hair hanging down over my face and staring down at my thighs, only this window of sight open, and while crying, i realize that only i will ever know what it is like to be me.  what an astounding revelation!  only i have this capacity to know me from this vantage point, from inside my eyes, no camera able to sink back far enough, to be able to encapsulate the filter that is all of my history, that is all of my desire and all of my fear.  considering this incredible revelation, that only i know what it is to be me (and of course, i am only just now learning) even my vantage point pivots and i begin to see myself differently, more clearly.

investigation of self vii: the irony of wanting to be seen

investigation of self vi: history

this is my mother upon highschool graduation.  who was she?  who is she now? 

how many countless layers are there to each of us?

just how is it that we exist through our history? and how does our history exist through us?

investigation of self v: the snare of self

who is trapped where and by what, or by whom?

investigation of self IV: intangible

investigation of self III: tangible

i dream of touching myself

feeling soft skin

and believing i am here

investigation of self II: value

case a.

case b.

investigation of the self: location

 case a.

case b.