But what if they don't? What if there are no edges, just visual and tactile differences, movements?
What we recognize as the edge of a petal might be no more than a transition. Something akin to a change in the weather.
We recognize visual dimensions because they provide limitations, and help-it-or-not, we as humans value our limitations.
Like babies being swaddled, like children learning the rules of the game, like traditional roles and delayed gratifications.
But what if no petal ends in an edge? What if we accept borders, walls and edges only because it's too complicated not to?
I have said this many times before.
My body does not end because there is space around my skin.
That space is also filled with my skin.
Our bodies touch way before we know our bodies touch.
Science is right about that.
What, then, is the greater illusion --
to believe that every petal has an edge or to believe we could fully imagine petals any other way?
Why is light-leaked film so nostalgic and fetishized?
Bashfulleigh is separated from Bashfulleigh by a volcanic and serrated divide.
Her body exists fully within both sides and in the combination of both sides.
The edge down the center of the film was made by human error -- mine.
The edge makes you look harder, makes you imbue it with additional meaning -- yours.
The edge will not let you be uncomplicated.
Which is exciting considering the edge doesn't even exist.
1 comment:
Without us to interpret the world as complicated, would it be? In not having to understand itself, I bet it understands itself just fine, our complex and illogical brains are the ones that create the edge/no edge problem and so must deal with it. (Leaving out all the other living things, of course, who make their own edges.) How delightfully messy is life!
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