time and place and presence and being are tangled so entirely that for a long - a very long - moment i chose to deceive myself into believing that i could not only tell them apart but actually ignore one for the other.
the truth is . . . i cannot see one without the other . . . and they are in my own knowing . . . the first layers of understanding . . . of representing not only that we are here but why we are here . . . and so my work . . . if work it is . . . is very much in what might poetically be termed "the nascent stage" . . . . it's a beautiful, chaotic, comforting, sometimes melancholy, sometimes joyful place . . .
humbling also . . .
4 comments:
Nascent is such an inspiring word, the beginning of things, and humbling, as you say, Steven, but also ever so enlivening.
i like the word nascent elisabeth for its alluding to processes already underway that have found form . . beginnings yes . . . . steven
I am looking for the beginning and the end of the tangled branches. I step back to see the whole, step forward to inspect the leaf and look at the spaces in between. Where is the truth? At least some parts have been identified, that's a beginning.
Also, humbled.
tangles are interesting, curious, it's what keeps us here I think, when we find our way through...we're on the other side.
Post a Comment