Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Autumn

Incipient autumn light is killingly beautiful, surrenders to the trace. It is not so much a color as floating absence, a bringing to the space of solitude (which is not aloneness which never seeks permission). Solitude is chosen, as a terrifying, lonely excessive, or filled and abrupt of measure. Solitude is chosen, scuffling and sooty. Solitude is chosen as grace, as abandon, as solar necessity. We are changed, perceptibly, by the space. Solitude brings down the ceaseless pressure of time implied by form itself, brings the animated margins into the center. What is the sensory experience of an idea, of solitude? Rising smoke and sinking mist. Some stratum of unthickness, of movement, of hope.

3 comments:

Jeremy said...

If normal, we look with approval at gregariousness, and with askance at solitude.

Gregariousness is extroversion; solitude introversion.

We are lonely in a crowd, and are at one with all in solitude.

With strangers we are lonely; in solitude we are alone.

Loneliness is thrust upon us, and solitude, aloneness, is, indeed, chosen.

Loneliness changes us for the worse; solitude, aloneness, changes us for the better.

Sol, the sun, of which there is but one in our world. Sol, solus, solo, solitary, one.

littlepage said...

One, solitary, solus, sol. World, our- in one but is, there which of-sun the sol. And reverse and forwards and forwith and back.

thank you for the meditation

words are a shared aloneness

littlepage said...

aloneness is a shared word

shards of words are shared birds

birds of a feather make bad weather

feet from a stone are never alone