|Kafka, Separated from the Fire by a Mirror by Paul Mersmann der Jungere|
"Please, consider me a dream." Kafka
How may we interpret this mysterious quote, passed down through interminable echoes? What, if any, interpretation needs be? Read one interpretation. They say it sums up his life. Can a life be summed up? In the spontaneous trigger of language into the folds of space and listening, when do we hear the contemplative grab of a lifetime thrown into a phrase?
The peculiar relevance of the painting above by German artist Paul Mersmann der Jungere speaks eloquently to the theme of self-reflection and passion. Self-consciousness, or conscious identity may sometimes block our passage into the spiritual heart of self-annihilation, providing us only with a thin display at which to gawk, and finally, withdraw oneself from participation in life altogether. It may be more useful to identify with the less formal, and more marginal states of mind. Or, as Kafka said in another dream reference, "Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me." [source]
If language is a bridge, we do not always cross it, but sometimes slip beneath, and after speaking in one direction, go our own way.
Memory fails to awaken dream into day. Here is bridge photography from the conscious state:
|Entering the Blue Void by R.K.|
|Electric Ice Reflection by R.K.|
|City Riverbank in Winter by R.K.|
|Ice Flow of Light by R.K.|
|No One Lives Under The Bridge by R.K.|
And the terminal plague of survival
Currents stepping like waves over the stone-headed martyrs
From one life inside
Painted fame twisting and writhing
In the soundless urban deep
A rustic, inflamed few,
Whose solemn grasp partakes in the early break
From an inevitable aftermath
Draining the rage from our animal brain
excerpts from "Guise of the Beloved"