Friday, July 29, 2011

back window

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



14 comments:

erin said...

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

Reya Mellicker said...

Love your comment, Erin. Wow.

The moon turns tomorrow, Steven. Sometimes that shift helps me. Hope it works for you, too. xx

steven said...

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

steven said...

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

Pauline said...

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...

ellen abbott said...

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.

Jinksy said...

Immediacy? It's still there in the spaces in between...

Cheryl Cato said...

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?

Friko said...

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?

Carlijn said...

beautiful. very inspiring.

ithinkstupid.blogspot.com

Bee said...

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.

Rachel Fenton said...

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.

steven said...

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

steven said...

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