Tuesday, 7 January 2014

post-rapture city, night-drive

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Have you ever considered, beloved Other, how invisible we all are to each other? Have you ever thought about how little we know each other? We look at each other without seeing. We listen to each other and hear only a voice inside ourself.






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The words of others are mistakes of our hearing, shipwrecks of our understanding. How confidently we believe in our meanings of other people’s words. We hear death in words they speak to express sensual bliss. We read sensuality and life in words they drop from their lips without the slightest intention of being profound.







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The voice of brooks that you interpret, pure explicator … The voice of trees whose rustling means what we say it means … Ah, my unknown love, this is all just us and our fantasies, all ash, trickling down the bars of our cell!





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from: The Book of Disquiet, Fernando Pessoa



42 comments:

  1. the building in the 4th and 5th photos is the university where i go to work, though it doesn't usually look like this :-)

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  2. The haunted darkness of prison.

    The Cumaean Sybil was in a cage too. i wonder what happened at night? Were signs and symbols crossed?

    Have you seen Le Joli Mai?

    (You work at a university???)

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    1. yes, unbelievable so, i do :-)

      and no, i haven't seen that film, i see it is by Chris Marker. is it a recommendation? :-)

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  3. And all the more alien our thoughts from one another. For as you arrive to your work in snow, we antipodeans bask in sunlight!

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    1. though there is no snow yet, this winter has been particularly warm, at least until now :-)

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  4. stunning!!!
    (and excellent pairing of word and image)

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    1. you really like this? :-)

      thank you!

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  5. There is a certain existential angst in knowing I am not talking to you. I am talking to who I imagine you are. As you talk to some imagined me. We fumble in our conversation. We misunderstand and are misunderstood. We retract, we correct our words. And if we are lucky, or if we try hard enough, one day we might both know what we mean. The only question is: Are you down for the struggle? Or are you up for it, depending on your point of view? Six one way, half a dozen the other. ( Those are wonderful in-your-face photos...)

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    1. it is the same in love, not only in conversation... love is a kind of conversation with the other, no? and yes, it takes tremendous struggle and honesty and dedication to maintain the liveliness of this dialogue over time, it is very difficult.

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  6. hi my friend, beautiful and profound as usual actually thankyou for driving us by your university how sweet of you.
    well I am just a little beggar of light what do I know but well I think and that is something in itself that verbal communication can run through our fingertips like a liquid dream leaving us stranded but well also they are part of the beautiful mystery of life having taken an infinite number of years to evolve we can't always grasp their exact meaning they are too rich and deep reaching to our divine centers that coincide with the cosmic center leaving the individual in his own unviolated sacred territory that can't be trespassed where the altar of solitude and exaltation exists.
    ah sending you word kisses you are a sweetheart my friend.♥

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    1. i thought you would like these photos as i know your love for light-abstractions-patterns :-) even more abstract than in this series :-)
      true communication has to happen (also) in a place beyond language, i think you are right here - though this doesn't mean one should disregard the richness of language, despite its traps and failings :-)

      kisses back, full of light!

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  7. This is so downbeat! I'm struggling reading Pessoa (Walser is so much better!)

    Isn't a little sometimes enough?

    Khair...

    a few small words for you, a...

    'I was kept from harm by a word found in nobody's heart.'

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    1. yes, i don't imagine Pessoa being for you :-)

      a little can sometimes be enough, but it all depends on the particular situation. at other times it isn't. i think one has to have the genuine wish to engage in a conversation with the other, even in spite of knowing the potential for failure. otherwise all is lost. yes, despite all the pessimism, i truly believe there is no other way except through talking, openly, to each other, that if one has a small chance at building a bridge toward another person, and make it last, then it is only through that kind of dialogue. or at least attempting at it.

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    2. and of course i should have added: if one cares at all about reaching toward the other. _care_ is essential. otherwise, indeed, why bother :-)

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  8. La pioggia dona sempre un'atmosfera particolare specialmente di notte, complimenti
    Maurizio

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  9. ce mult imi place, totul,postare,fotografii,si,asta voiam sa spun prima data cum am vazut,dar vad ca m. a spus deja,imbinarea dintre ele, cred ca asta e cel mai ravasitor ,felul in care le-ai impletit,le-ai vazut tu,impreunate (am crezut ca tu ai scris proza,seamana si asta atat de mult cu tine:) -si li tocmai imi aratase ieri o statuie,la tv,cu passoa:) ).
    acelaeassi ganduri le-am avut si eu zilele trecute,incontinuu, mintea mea este traversata mereu de acest tip de concluzii si panseuri,insa uneori este mai adanc felul in care ma preocupa,cum este in aceste zile. si stiu ca este unul dintre adevarurile capatate indelung,tot mai si tot mai,si totusi... chiar daca totul este un ecou,ce ecouri minunate gasim uneori in altii,nu,draga mea, si cum irup din nou ecouri mai puternic in anumite prezente... si cum totul de vine usor,mintea noastra, caruselul trairilor noastre in celalalt uneori,cum ne spune el ceva ce in noi abia inmugurea; si,peste toate,cred ca exista momente suprapuse, ca sa le numesc cumva,in care marginile luminii sau ale cladirilor in noapte ni se par identice ,la fel cum este rugina unei paduri pline de ceata iarna sau felul in care mana celuilalt seamana in caldura ei cu o noastra; da,eu asa cred,printre suvite de ceata si de abanos lucitor.

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    1. da, draga mea, şi mie mi se pare uneori că asta face ca existenţa să aibă sens, aceste ecouri care răsună în alţii, şi clipa în care trăim o asemenea rezonanţă este aceea de graţie, care justifică totul...

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  10. Roxy, sos una genia, te mando un beso desde París...

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    1. desde Paris? wow!!! quiero ver muchas fotos de Paris :-)

      un besito :-)

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  11. Man fahrt nicht nach Venedig oder Kyoto. In Winkeln
    spielt sich die Welt ab,
    like Craiova,
    a place

    er Weiß es nicht,
    wußte es nicht,
    wird es nicht wissen.

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    1. this is a very sweet thing to say

      Man fahrt nicht nach Venedig oder Kyoto. In Winkeln
      spielt sich die Welt ab,
      like Craiova,
      a place


      if only it were true :-)

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  12. actually my friend the more I consider this idea the more I love it.I do a lot of automatic writing and your journals always inspire me so much.
    Im delighted by this idea that the vagueness and imprecision of language is necessarily the other side of having a rich profundity.
    and just to further consider this idea the profound word that evolved over an infinite number of years has been woven from every possible action of humanity a necessity to communicate about the action and every word then is so richly latent with its meaning of all actions that no wonder at times these jewels confuse us but jewels they are embedded in the crowns of our existence.
    hugs and new year kisses.
    I realize this is just another playing of words haha but still I love it, it is glorious and it is where we live.

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    1. and indeed, we wouldn't have any poetry if there wasn't for this "vagueness and imprecision of language"!
      jewels! that is lovely :-)

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    2. yes and also the interconnectiveness of words and all elements of the universe add to this profundity.

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  13. I've had these thoughts often, not so eloquently, but thought/felt them nonetheless. I'm overwhelmed with sadness when I consider these ideas, other times, overwhelmed with tender pity. The photos make me want to experience this alien cold, snowy city night under looming, imposing buildings, electricity buzzing. It almost scares me! One hopes there is refuge for all under such elements, but we double back to the words and realize, again, "fantasies, all ash, trickling down the bars of our cell!"

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    1. sadness, fear, but tender pity too... yes, i feel the same... but the drive through the deserted city was not scary, more of that tenderness and quiet contemplation of something which lives forever there, within our reach, but out of our grasp... that acceptance...

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  14. "...run through our fingertips like a liquid dream..." great image, Rahaellae.

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  15. düster, so wie hier und doch, der nebel verhüllt nur für "einige Momente" die dinge, wie sie in ihrer Schönheit wahrhaftig zu sein scheinen, und doch, er ist selbst schön, mystisch, geheimnisvoll und weiss (weiss als farbe und weiss als wissen :-)... der text scheint nur beim ersten hinsehen auf die bilder zu passen. ich selbst denke, dass die liebe, wenn man solche gedanken hegt, schon an einem vorbeigezogen ist. die liebe kann sogar hinter verletzungen blicken und worte sind nicht genug, nur unterstützend, um wirklich zu verstehen...nun das ist auf alle fälle meine sicht der dinge...! :-)
    ich hoffe, es geht dir gut, liebste prinzessin! und danke! bis bald, ja?! renée

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    1. ja, meine Liebe, da hast Du recht, es gibt noch etwas, was in dieser Hinsicht staerker als alle Worte ist... und es gibt eine Zweideutigkeit, die im Wesen der Sprache selbst zu finden ist, denn Sprechen ist nicht nur Versagen, wie in diesem Zitat, Sprechen laesst auch eine unendliche Fuelle des Seins sich entfalten - oder zumindest kann das in bestimmten Faellen tun, deswegen koennen wir ohne Dichtung nicht leben! :-)
      ich laechle Dir zu und wuensche Dir einen wunderschoenen Abend noch...
      ps. ich liebe den Nebel auch, so sehr, ich sehe ihn genau so wie Du :-)

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  16. I know exactly what Spessoa means! It's so easy to get it all wrong, and even when we think we're right...we think we understand. And though I may never know what my beloved other is saying, may never know my beloved other, I will listen with all my heart and when something isn't clear to me...beloved other, tell me more so that I may love you well.

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    1. this is very beautiful, this desire to open oneself toward and for the other, to struggle to go beyond all inherent failings - this dedication is essential to love, i think so too - one cannot love the other (be it lover or friend) without this wish, i believe...

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  17. unknown love, which is (perhaps) the self, or that which is beneath the self, that which holds self up, the self - the illusion of now.

    my mouth descends. my mouth always descends toward what rests beneath.

    your photography is always like a journey home. i've no control. it is all bliss in movement.

    xo
    erin

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    1. a journey home... these are such powerful words, erin, and you are so generous now, with me, with my photos. i feel small and shy :-)

      (thank you)

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  18. gosh, these photographs and words speak so LOUD to me, it's deafening. and sad. and heart-wrenching.
    and because of all that, it is a wonderful post, Roxana. a profound reminder of my own linguistic confinement
    where i often wrestle with words, meanings, intentions, emotions . . . even common logic.

    "limitless within my limitations," someone sang once. i smile.

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    1. Tanja, i am so happy to have you here again, smiling, and wondering about the same things as i do :-)
      that is why photography is so important to me, and i am sure, to you as well - because of this deep feeling of "linguistic confinement"...

      i am waving~~~
      :-)

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  19. The first is on the suburbs of Mexico city, the second is Anarkali, the third is Berlin, the fourth is Oxford Street, the sixth is just past Monument, the seventh is Baltimore, and the eighth on the outskirts of Moscow. You seem to everywhere...yet, also, strangely missing.

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    1. yet it is not me who is missing but the eye who had the ability to see me in every place, before :-)

      that could be one of many poetic answers to this most poetic and hermetic comment, or so i imagine...

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    2. yet it is not me who is missing but the eye that had the ability to see me in every place, before :-)

      you sound like god!

      :-)

      Ah, but eyesight falters, hands fail...what is left but words and the human voice?

      "There's no betrayal like the human voice"
      ---Richard Ford.

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  20. the loneliness we all carry always
    and the reaching out

    de cate or vin in vizita, ce bine e sa te regasesc. am venit rar, ma ierti, draga mea. m-am retras departe undeva, intr-o carapace of my own making. inca nu stiu de ce.

    but this post, it reaches out, and in.
    thank you

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    1. ma gandesc la tine des, sa stii... imi dau seama ca ai nevoie de aceasta tacere, aceasta retragere, si tot sper ca vei reveni spre mine, la un moment dat, ca nu va interveni uitarea. eu sunt aici :-)
      te imbratisez si multumesc

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