Fiddling in my old stuff I found a piece I wrote which I felt goes to show the extent one can go to, if one decides to see the positive points to a situation. This is a rather extreme example as I wrote this just a few hours before the laser operation that would rid me of my short-sightedness. Feeling inspired and somehow preemptively nostalgic of a situation I have been suffering for the past 10 years of my life, this is what I wrote:
Imagine a world where colors are colorful but shapes are shapeless. Where the very essence of an object seems to rebel against the constraints of its form and spreads into the next object in a bilateral exchange of color.
A world where light pulses every time in a different way, once spreading its arms towards the ground and another time straight up, intertwining with other sources, coming together in a world where things-that-are-not move. An unfinished creation as if god's reject had found a way out of heaven's rubbish bin, and somehow survived in our inferior world and proliferated.
These things are everywhere, sometimes moving together to form a bigger even less defined something, and then split up in a confusing fireworks of colors.
Before shutting your eyes at night, you find that, taking off your glasses, you have already entered a more peaceful world where details will not aggress you, but rather slowly guide you in a narcotic transition in to your dreams, where one will define alone how the perfect world should be.
And in the morning again when you wake, the same transition will, like a mother's kiss, greet you more subtly in the world where you cannot count different shapes anymore.
Imagine a world full of poetry, where shapes are no more and colors rule.
Not only this but also Serenissime are very profound and more introspective tham I can follow - although I wish I could. I never thought of colours in this way! Shapes yes but then usually in uncontrolled, ever moving shapes which hit eachother - a nightmare.
ReplyDeleteI read this a few years ago when you showed it to me in Jordan and I was duly impressed then. I am awed and delighted that one can, with such precision, put to paper what one feels in your particular situation. Even more so for me who has a hawk's vision of the world around us, and who in direct opposition to your viewpoint, is particularly aware with all senses. Unlike the painter Turner subtle masterpieces, all what I see is precise or subtle but always clear to its finer details leaving less room for imagination. I love how you write and am humbled by it.
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