Blog: http://stephenvincent.durationpress.com
"Crossing the Millennium, 1999" continues it's daybook entries a pace with
the present - unfortunately the image upload is not working, so hopefully,
only briefly I am back to text only. However, scrolling down between Feb 25
and 28th, there are photos with text. The interplay with image, I like.
As always, I enjoy your comments.
Stephen Vincent
*
March 2, 1999
So much of the search is private; to seek the image (the table saw) that
speaks to the day or yesterday. What one sees may die out of habit, out of
repetition. A corner mailbox, for example, when it is new the fresh blue
paint, its slightly hulking shape -- commands the corner. Several years
hence, unpainted, it still stands, useful, but - unless one of its legs is
bent under, crushed by a car, or an edge of its faded blue surface is oddly
textured by an abstract, dark rust - it's hardly worth a photograph. Itıs
become dead to the eye.
Or, to say it another way, when something becomes common, it is ignored the
way one might ignore eternity as common, boring. Itıs only after an object
disappears into another kind of eternity that it becomes cherished as an
object with an aura, such as an old, cleaned-up telephone or typewriter.
We, too, as they say, will be more cherished dead than alive.
The real point is to find an object, that thing in the day that ignites the
eye, unveils the unconscious, that speaks a companionship in the material
world. The table saw. Itıs twirling blade. The fertile shriek into the wood.
Two cats while mating. The insemination. The shock. Letıs go running.
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