8/6/2019 Photography Senior Year 2011
1/2
And what I thought was, wasnt. So I couldnt even though I could
have. Despite me being, Im
not, and as a result I might be. Even if I could have, I wouldnt
have been able to. Conversely,
perhaps I might have, had I had the time, the strength, the hope
enough to do it. But I didnt. But
the world was filled with light and the shadows fell away.
Wherever the light touched, the world
was burned away and what was left the world of the future and
the past. Never the present. For in
the future of the past, the Now as not, could not, be important.
They simply could not and did not
perceive the time, the stream of life, as it passed them by. But
they look for something,
something to fill the void, something to heal their wounds, the
scars and stripes of their soul. But
they search in vain, for the remedy for the wound of the soul is
unattainable by hands of flesh
and bone. It lips through skin and sinew, passes through blood
and bone. It is intangible,
untouchable, and it cannot be perceived. But still they reach
for the light, for the truth, for the
voice just behind the curtain, the face beyond the veil. The
world of the Other, the Outer,
parallel and interwoven into our own. The next dimension,
through the looking glass, down the
rabbit hole, beyond the veil. The unreachable world; who
inhabits it? Who would desire the
shadow of a shadow of a world? The outcasts, exiles, those who
cannot bear to show the worldtheir faces. What shames, crimes or
treasons must they have committed to have been condemned
to the outer spaces. And yet there are those born with the
perception of the wood between the
worlds. They are the psychics, the mystics, those whom we
perceive as mad, delusional,
fantastic. Those who speak to the sky and make love to the
Earth. The flying man, the
curanderos, the Kachinas, the Mad Hatter, that nice girl called
Alice. The Power has mandated
that they have the mark of Cain, the blood that is unlike the
blood of man. We are bound from
seeing, bound from the perception of magic, the recognition of
fantasy. The fey, the members of
the Seelie Court, the Dione Sidhe, the faeries. They are the
children of that world, the mental and
spiritual drippings of the next dimension. They are
simultaneous, like light, like time. Once in
this world and eternally in the next. They repeat, like the gods
of old, yet they cannot progress.They are outside of time but
intimately in space. That is why there are things that bump in
the
night, things that live in the shadows in between leaves, the
space beneath the grass but above
the ground. They live in palaces made of Thought and Memory and
are dressed in the patina of
colors of emotions. In castles made of tears and villas full of
regrets and nostalgia, they reign
over the tempest, the storm and the earthquake. They are the
children of Heaven and Hell, the
unaligned, the forever gray, the never one or the other. Beings
of light and dark whose only cares
are to have no cares at all. Impulsive, emotional, distracted,
beautiful. How can something so
alluring, so attractive, so deeply sensual be evil, be without a
heart. We have the burden of a
heart, the cross to bear of a soul. They are eternal because
they live only in the moment, only in
the Now. For then there is no past, no future. Like us they are
shaped with four limbs, are
upright, but unlike us they are light, airy, nigh on intangible.
They despise us because we are
noble, because we tame our base instincts in favor of a higher,
heavier road to walk. We are
spirits trapped in corporal shells. They are spiritual shells on
a quasi-physical plane. Time is
immaterial to them, they exist without it. We exist in it, on
it, around it, through it. We are finite
containers for an infinite light. But we suffer for it, we bleed
for the brightness we carry within.
8/6/2019 Photography Senior Year 2011
2/2
Sacrifice is the name we carve into our flesh, we idolize it,
despair because of it, cannot exist
without it. We wander, always wander hoping to find something of
worth, something like us.
But sometimes their light eclipses ours. And sometimes ours
smothers theirs. But light is heat,
life, fire, warmth. Forever it shines because light is the fire
of the soul. The light of the mind.
Light is fire in its purest form. We are made of light. Fire
that does not burn. But always be
cautious. We are in a poisoned world, a material prison, and our
light is forever at odds with it.
We search for something outside ourselves because we do not
belong, cannot belong. We are
heavenly pieces on an earthly board. That is why we bemoan our
existence, search for meaning,
for some sort of relief, some sort of salve to ease the pain in
our wounds. For the world wounds
grievously, then rubs salt in our wounds. One cannot defeat life
but by dying. Death is so often
that which we fear. No, what we truly fear is life. That is why
liars like me continue to tell non-
truths. Because to avoid life, to make life liveable, we take
ourselves out of it, put ourselves in a
fantasy. Death is warm, inviting, and the only sure thing we
have on this earth. Death is our
constant friend, the only one who never fails, never lets us
keep on living. We are human
because we expire, because we are finitely infinite. But then,
who can perceive infinity? Not I.Nor you. God is infinite. Why is
it that we can feel Him, love Him, and feel His love for us?
Why do we feel the void when we turn from Him? Despair is a deep
black hole that devours
everything but the light. What I write, right here in ink and
thought, will crumble, fade, turn to
dust in memory and form. Forever forgotten, never remembered.
Why do we seek immortality
when our every atom rushes forth to death, to an end to it all?
We examine our instincts and see
the paradox. Our instinct is to survive, to prolong life, but we
cannot do so without the death of,
without the end of, something else. Our cells are worn out,
replaced, worn out. We survive by
dying, by always expending our energy. Spending our time on
things that remind our souls of
heaven. We are weak things, chained to time when actually we are
outside of it.
