Everyday opinion sees in the shadow merely the absence of light, if not its complete denial. But, in truth, the shadow is the manifest, though impenetrable, testimony of hidden illumination. Conceiving of the shadow this way, we experience the incalculable as that which escapes representation, yet it is manifest in beings and points to the hidden being.
Heidegger
we've known for a long time that the photograph is not that copy of the real some would have liked us to believe. but what if one could conceive of it as a kind of - heideggerian - shadow ?
..
since we've been talking about shadows, and other shadows... :-)
ReplyDeletehello my beautiful friend, -another magnificent masterpeice.
ReplyDeleteI know you will be too shy to admit it haha but I do believe that you have reached the cosmic solution in this post- the balance in the universe between all light and shadow and permeating every creature
this leaves me relaxed unpulled by any tension of light and dark arrived at the center.
the stark beauty of the naked soul.
bises de la luminosité tranquille.
à la prochaine blogging.
To me, photography is the projection of light that may reveal the shadow.
ReplyDeleteThe brighter the light, the darker the shadow.
U love you.
ReplyDeletethis was scary!...in the first it's as if the glass was being interrogated. there's something to be said for the everyday mind.
ReplyDeleteThe same is true of any art form, though, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteIn the moment I realized the person I was talking to had no shadow, I realized I was hallucinating again.
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ReplyDeleteEXT. LONE TREE IN FIELD. DAY
ReplyDeleteMidday. Oppressive heat. Sweat on one's brow. [the Pinteresque sentence fragments are a nice touch]
Under the tutelary arms and canvas-forming pinnules of an earth-fast royal poinciana [for practical reasons, hotly debated substitutions in flora sometimes seem inevitable], Casiphia, a
buxom wench of five-and-twenty, with freshly washed ebon hair, stood eyes agog, having lost a cloisonné brooch. As it was a gift from her lover, a frantic search for the jewel was undertaken. Starting at midday (la chaleur impitoyable en plein midi), she studied every suspicious bump on the greensward. Many hours later, when the sun began courting the horizon, a hitherto unseen glint was observed on the grass, and the jewel was recovered [cue extra-diegetic music, so ably performed by highly paid studio musicians, yet nevertheless sinking the scene
into a bathos of sentimentality]. Son coeur jouissait d'un attendrissement profond (puisque le coeur a ses raisons).
A mosquito (our budget does not allow for a lioness), attracted to the heroine's plunging neckline, bites blissfully and fatally (or so she thought). The harried insect, also known by the
sobriquet 'deus ex machima,' [notwithstanding the entomological argument that members of the family Culicidae may not actually assign nicknames to each other] was annihilated by Casiphia's
swift hand, whereupon a blood stained veil fell to the ground [buxom women often wear all manner of diaphanous accoutrements]. Exhausted, she abandoned the tree in favor of a purlieu where
strawlike weeds made for her a perfect bed. Her lover soon arrived at the hallowed tree, and, seeing nothing but a bloodstained veil, imagined that a great tragedy had befallen his
inamorata. Unable to countenance the thought, he took a dagger from his pocket (the props department has a plummy assortment of shiny daggers) and plunged it directly into his pounding heart. When the sleepy-eyed napper returned, she saw the evil that had taken place (darned mosquitos) and immediately pulled the dagger from her lover's heart, imitatively drew her last
elfin breath, and plunged the dagger into her own tender heart.
Which only goes to show, dearest, that not all shady [double entendre: "in the shadow of' and 'sketchy/dubious'] stories end happily.
p.s. i must hone this story, from i am certain that it would make a good mini-series for television, perhaps even another play.
this reveals ... for one thing, placing these images beside the quote reveals heidegger, just how -- underneath the sometimes obscure laboring of philosophical rhetoric -- essentially japanese he was...
ReplyDeleteand this second photo, oh this strips everything away, until we have no hands left to cover our eyes so that we might no longer see -- this is the geometry of shadow at the heart of light ... and it is a thing, yes, not (merely) an absence
and photographs come so close to the plight of words, i think, both are types of shadows of shadows ... except here, except in your regard, where they live and long to stay ...
cred ca s-ar scrie si deja s-au scris multe dintre povestile lumii despre umbre,lumina,lipsa sau perceptia unora,implicand-o,evident,pe cealalta;si tot mult cred ca s-a vorbit si despre dizolvarea acestor notiuni:)eu ma voi opri,astazi,intr-una dintre firidele mintii mele,indragostita,in mod cu totul neasteptat,de geometrie.asupra faptului ca ,dincolo de inlantuirea meandrica a umbrelor(in drum spre casa,sa zicem,dupa o zi grea,in mijlocul unei bucurii pe care niciodata nu o poti"apuca",in mijlocul unei asiduitati care se termina intr-un gand foarte simplu etc)-dincolo de aceste unduiri,ni se dau niste linii foarte clare,ni se impune cumva,de catre geometrie,pana unde sa pasim.atata timp cat vor exista aceste linii clare,care ne spun ca niciodata nu ne vor fi de ajuns,vom sti ca nu trebuie doar sa indepartam umbrele,in cautarea luminii,ci,mai mult,sa fotografiem,instant,cu fiecare deschidere a pleoapelor.
ReplyDeletesi fotograful -cel putin acesta:)-stie acest lucru:)
Just as a shadow reveals the presence of light, so an empty bowl fills the mind with thoughts of everything it could contain.
ReplyDeleteA certain mixture of flour, butter, sugar, and chocolate, for example... I'm just thinking out loud here, nothing deeply philosophic... :-)
Oh, PS, you stopped my heart entirely for long moments of palpitation with your words today... Fortunately there was defibrillator nearby to get it started again, by the edge of a cliff... :-)
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ReplyDeleteaber, was wäre eine Leben doch ohne Schatten, man könnte das wunderbare Licht nicht erkennen! Ach, es wäre wie ein Himmel ohne Wolken :-)!
ReplyDeleteDie Kunst, so denke ich, braucht immer die Schatten, um weit in die Tiefe zu gehen...!
Dir die liebsten Wünsche, liebste Prinzessin!
Renée
La lumière, l'ombre et l'absence.
ReplyDeleteAbsence de lumière et il n'y a point d'ombre !
Une lumière intense et les ombres disparaissent...
La création est possible dans l'ombre.
Plus on approche la lumière, plus l'ombre s'agrandit !
La zone d'ombre permet alors plus de créativité.
Rechercher notre histoire dans cette ombre...
Un fauteuil, un récipient, vide, une lumière !
Les ombres dessinent les pleins et les manques...
Un fauteuil pour celle, celui qui n'est pas là !
Un récipient vide qui invite au manque et nous instruit sur la présence.
Le photographe photographie quoi ?
Une zone d'ombre, vide ou plein de manque ?
Une offrande à celle ou celui qui était assis sur le fauteuil.
Les ombres de notre vie nous éclaire et nous enseigne sur ce qui nous manque. Elles apportent la clarté sur qui nous sommes lorsqu'il n'y a plus de lumière.
Ainsi, je vois un fauteuil, un récipient humain et la lumière qui étirent des zones d'ombres.
Le noir et le blanc ne peuvent se passer de gris !
Amitiés :)
The shadow self, when brought to light, still exists, but without the former power with which it kept us captive. A photo of one's self, cast in shadow and light, imprisons a lost moment so that some day it can be brought out of the dimness of memory and recast in a new light.
ReplyDeletei am a bit without words at the present time, the ones of you who have been here long enough know this is a state not alien to the Bridge... i can only say thank you for your comments and generous presence here...
ReplyDeletei just want to add that i feel glad to see that the Bridge seems to inspire such creativity fire as manifested in the philosophical essays and stories you've been so kind to scatter on it, i wonder whether it isn't unjust that they remain hidden in the comment section of a blog. you may want to consider posting such long essays and stories on your blogs and just leave the link here, while keeping the Bridge comments more directly focused on its floating worlds.
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me what what Melissandre of Asshai says about Shadows.....
ReplyDeletedes cercles de l'imagination son Asie bioénergie c'est-à-dire comme en tai-chi les cercles des mouvements donc les vitesse donne ce yin et yang ; j'aime tes clichées..
ReplyDeleteBrilliant! As mirae said, "another magnificent masterpiece." We do not throw around the term "masterpiece" as it is too heavy to throw and too light to grasp, or too light to throw and too heavy to grasp...
ReplyDeleteYour question here in this post is marvelous!