Wednesday, November 9, 2011

a picture of the past 4

Warships watching two whales mating.

A picture of today 4

I look so proud  in this picture, almost like a soldier. I didn't spot the small swastikas on the fabric behind me untill I looked at the picture on the computer. I guess they are the sort of indian swastikas that we need not worry ourselves about, but with my arian apearance I find myself worrying just the same.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

a picture of today 3

The remnants of a bird trampled into the pavement. Personally I cant imagine ever stepping on dead animal, but maybe after trucks had ground it down a bit people stopped noticing it. I like that about myself, that I sometimes notice the hidden things in plain sight, that I can see things most other people are too busy to spot. I'm also happy that I can notice the beauty even in grizzly things like this, that I find a poetry here, in the angle of the little foot and what's left of the wing.

a picture of the past 3

The sadness and loneliness I felt when I took this picture is still alive in my mind, but times are very different now three years after. I called the picture torturous embrace and added this text to it: " No words can express the pain of your loving." It implies that somebody is holding on to me, but the truth is that I'm only holding on to myself.

Monday, November 7, 2011

A picture of today 2

Autumn things, flat autumn things.

a picture of the past 2

At one point I would like to know the name of all trees, but I don't know this one yet. The colors reminded me of christmas, the texture did too I think, sort of like marsipan.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

A picture of today

Do things still matter after they fade away? The (important?) message is still discernible on the eroded sign, but for how long? Is it the elements that claimed it? Or is it the dogs themselves that have nipped and licked at it while their owners looked away?

A picture of the past

A piece of broken glass in the sand.
I no longer remember why I took this pic.

Friday, November 4, 2011

That subtle thing

Subtle, literal, direct, focused, insightful, superficial, sensational, dull, certain, sincere, faltering, rambling, obscure, cliché, lost, confident.

That is how I feel about what I'm doing at the moment, it shines with certainty in my minds eye, but slips through my fingers like jelly when I grasp for it.

There is something inside of me.

There is something true and real.

But there are layers of different languages between it and me. Norwegian, English, philosophy, material, tradition, semiotics, empirics, emotion, memory and poetry. They are all languages that must be mastered, and even if they might rely on each other from time to time they are varying degrees separate and they don't always cooperate with each other.

That subtle slip of a notion that swirls so deceptively between my depts and my surfaces, it speaks to me in all these languages at the same time. It evokes so much so deftly, I might as well trace the steps of a prima ballerina as try to speak its truth with all of its gradients and variations.

But grasp at it I must.

I must reach out my clumsy hands.

Feel the contours of it as they shift beneath my touch.

I remind myself that I might be too stubborn yet. I might be too fixed by my own infatuation with what's easy and quick. Cheap tricks and clever fixes. I feel like a flea circus, I make the kids squeal with wonder, but the feeling doesn't linger and the memory fades under the shine of too much of the similar too soon after.

I don't want to be a cheap fix. The cheap fix is jut a parody of the truth, it amuses, but it lies as well, obscures the real and shifts the focus to the self gratification of pleasure and amusement. Shifts the focus away from that subtle thing.

Oh, this blog has really been suffering in lonelyness this semester :(

Maybe it's time to grasp the reins again and get documenting.