photograph by alfred stieglitz "back window"
i'm missing
-
the sense of immediacy
that clings to me
as closely as my shadow
is hiding
in the corner
perhaps
like me
it has no defence
against
a summer
that scattershots days and nights
into the sky
like so many stars
music: elvin jones p.p. phoenix
14 comments:
steven, i'm curious. (my god, that shot!) but i'm curious, you're missing that sense of immediacy, but not emotionally missing, but rather missing as in it is gone? is that right? for to be loosened from that sense of immediacy would be an incredible gift to me. frig, how tightly it does cling to me despite my believing it is a toxin.
but yes, summer does this. i had a moment where i recognized it. actually, it has just come to me, two moments of releasing immediacy had temporarily flung from me, both of them on bikes with my son. one was last night. i looked up, felt the absolute freedom of summer. the clock had been dashed. and our feet were unclad and yet, there we went, no forethought, only living in the moment. ah, summer. i relented. said, wow, i actually like summer. i breathed deeply. and then summer was almost over.
xo
erin
Love your comment, Erin. Wow.
The moon turns tomorrow, Steven. Sometimes that shift helps me. Hope it works for you, too. xx
erin thanks for your thoughtful comment. wow is right! the immediacy is the rush that arrives when i open or close my eyes and see what i see. it's the connection to the current that fuels me. i look around and inside and it's missing. how do i reconnect . . . well i know ways and hope is a friend of mine. expectation is also hanging around a way too much. letting it go and experiencing the moment - something i'm entirely familiar with and yet . . . forgetting to breathe comes so naturally also. steven
reya - erin is so clever and can say things with words that i think but don't know how to write. i'm a very patient person but as i said to erin, sometimes i forget to breathe and recognize the breath for what it is. i'm focussed on the map and the direction i'm heading instead. the lyrics for talking heads "crosseyed and painless" are running through my head a lot these days: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/t/talking+heads/crosseyed+painless_20135079.html steven
even the stars are changing, though they appear so steadfast to us. forgetting how to breathe is necessary now and then so that when the memory returns we are more aware of it. interesting that you feel focused on the future when it is the present that is rapidly becoming our demise...
Not missing Steven, perhaps it has just become an undercurrent, a more subtle vapor. Perhaps you have just absorbed that feeling, that it has become normal for you.
Immediacy? It's still there in the spaces in between...
Perhaps it is a good thing that "the sense of immediacy" is missing. Summer brings a time to relax, to enjoy bike rides and family. All too soon those hectic days of the school year will return as well as that "sense of immediacy".
I love A. Stieglitz' work. I have a book of his with connections to G. O'Keeffe's paintings. They were quite the pair. And do I detect a touch of fall color in your banner photo?
the scattershots of days and nights - I wouldn't be able to come up with a phrase like that in a million years.
Your sense of immediacy is alive, well and truly, otherwise where would these words come from?
beautiful. very inspiring.
ithinkstupid.blogspot.com
I'm off to a barbeque to enjoy a fine summer evening . . . but I will be back to listen to these intriguing songs. There IS something particularly scattershot about summer. Out of routine: we lurch between the frantic and the lazy.
It is odd to read of summer when I am so immersed in winter, yet, conversely, not at all.
The window is much the best frame for fleeting feelings.
bee! i'm barbequing as i write . . . it's such a north american piece and yet - you are in england! how does that work? i appreciate your recognition of the lurching of summer. oh boy do i ever. steven
rachel - i have friends in oz and i'm usually so careful about summery talk!! windows have framed so many of my experiences of phases of my life. in fact when i think of those times i see the window first. steven
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