Spaces in-between, as I was saying in Comments on the last entry, are fascinating - the silence between notes…the ghost of reflection on glass, shadows standing alone, subtracted from the objects that cast them.
All the afters and befores and in-the-middles strung together like graffiti sprayed over a sign. What is meant covering the official message.
Shadow, not object. The world is utterly different when you look at it that way.
I do not mean to be mysterious.
Here I am - before and after and in-the-middle of events in my current life, the details of which I have published and left up on the blog “flapping wildly on the virtual clothesline like a pair of too-big granny pants” (to steal a quote from Teri of Blueberry Pie). There are ketchup smears and coffee stains obliterating sections of my roadmap. I have the suspicion that I’m somewhere in a very old minefield. The grass waves placidly for miles. The sky is clear blue. And soon I will have to take a step in some direction.
Like the Tarot card, The Fool. Looking up happily at the sky as he steps off a cliff, trusting that the universe will support him.
It’s not a matter of hope, but dumb faith. Which is why The Fool is not both the first and the last card in the deck. Because, it seems, he doesn’t actually fall.
Sometimes, after you spend a while looking at the middles and the shadows for a while, you have to do it like that.
Just step.
Right, Lucas?
