illusions of what was
3 black doors
open barn doors
coronavirus 2020 #6
What are we losing? What are we giving up?
“Keep a distance of 6 feet between you and others”
“don’t touch each other”
“wear a mask”
In short, don’t kiss, shake hands or fuck.
Cold Comfort 2
three of a perfect pair
Inside The Curve
… on… my disappearance….
Identity presence existence metaphysic existential reality:
these are the issues.
“Life is an illusion and we trick ourselves into thinking and believing it’s real.” ~ mobius faith diaries
When I took this photo (below) I was fascinated by the door handles, lock and chain. But as is often the case – after I got home and started processing the image I realized something quite disturbing. I was standing directly in front of these doors but nowhere in the image. No reflection of the photographer. Where had I gone? Where was the photographer? I suddenly began to question my existence for some reason. I began to doubt all that I thought I knew was real. I just could not fathom…. logic told me that when someone is standing in front of an object that is casting a reflection that person should be part of the reflection. But here, the glass doors were reflecting the street behind me but showed no interest in reflecting me – the reflected image was not interested in my narcissistic obsession. Okay so this is the stuff of nightmares. I actually did have a nightmare about this the night I processed this image. There had to be some logical explanation. There was NO “photoshopping” of this image to remove my reflection. I had simply disappeared at some point in time between the time I pressed the button on the shutter and when the shutter closed again. This was during the day so there was no time-lapse – I was shooting at full speed.
I noticed the crack/space where the two door meet. Had I disappeared into the crack of dark space. And if so how come I have no recollection? If we cease to exist do we have no recollection of what came before? If we cease to exist on this plane do we just start some other existence with no remembrance of the existence we had when we were mortal corporeal beings? Had I crossed some astral plane to the other side of the doors and was looking out? At one point I did actually wonder if I was looking out or looking in thru these doors. One can see the windows in the vacant dark space which contrast with the reflection of the street. But again, I began to question – is this a reflection of the windows or reflections of the street?
Your music moment today is provided by Khôra featuring their track ONE IS THE OTHER from their album Silent Your Body Is Endless on my favorite Canadian Label (Constellation Records).
***The truth of the matter – destroy your illusions – reflections have a way of bending. And that’s exactly what happened in this image. As you can see in the photo there is a space between the doors which means they were not sealed tightly shut. They were bowed out slightly reflecting the sides of the entrance and the street behind. The doors were bowed out enough to allow me to stand in the crack or space between without being in the reflection. You can figure out exactly how much if you measure the angle in the reflections which seem to close in behind me. Also logic tells me (and you hopefully) that there is no entranceway like this that narrows then gets wider as you get closer to the door. Think of a theater – outside on the sidewalk the entrance is wide and then funnels you into the doors not the other way around.
Bottom line. I no longer have nightmares about getting lost and disappearing. I CAN understand, appreciate and enjoy when it does happen. 🙂
… on… adversity/opportunities….
When the door is shut in your face, you are in a unique position to reflect on other opportunities you may not have previously seen or considered.
Not all opened doors lead to betterment – even broom closets have doors.
EXIT TO NOWHERE
Where is Nowhere?
Can you take me there?
Will others welcome me?
What will it look like?
Will it be someplace just like here?
Will I be entering a place everyone else is trying to leave?
Is there a road to nowhere?
Is there a train to nowhere?
Is there a door to nowhere?
Nowhere is home
Somewhere is always someplace else
The elusive “other”
Always going and never arriving
Living the dream
While ignoring reality
White line fever
Tracks of our tears
Knocking on the doors of opportunity never to be opened.
We have taken the exit and are now here.