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votive candili : sarah mcdermott : 03

 



by andrew lovatt  :  sept 02 : dublin


one forgets, and this is both blessing & curse. maybe it depends on what we forget - the dogma or the manifestly unobvious, that quality of hinted meaning, subtle shift of rhythm & tempo, that leads to the desire to uncover the hidden fantasies parading as realities; to poke a hole in the given solidity of accepted things & see the real possibility that all givens are fantasies by another name.

ideas are fantasies; no need to split hairs over which of them qualifies it's real-ness by proving itself a "pragmatic" material event; profit and progress are heroic markers in our lives but not the only mythologic story unfolding in us. it's the myths which lie hidden like gods & daemons in the dark corners of our un-conscious which drive our "sanity" to such extremes of dogmatic reality; and fear of facing our blind unknowing which fuels our inability to allow ourselves to wonder -- wander openly in our own time & space.

what's obvious is the path of least resistance; an open road to the sea of accepted usuality. the way to the imaginal space has one barrier & that is what we inherently believe, our background knowing. is it from others only, or are we in-formed by our own experience? how far are we willing to delve, scratch and look?

of course there is no objective norm; it's always an "accepted" marker that folks agree to agree upon. the hierarchy we follow - to believe there is "known" structure - comes to us with in-built lenses: we are what we are capable of seeing. so move the boundaries. recognise that they exist and choose to move outside the playing field; that's our third step - the first is to see it, and the second to wish it. or perhaps it is the wishing which must come first, most likely.

we are swimming in a post-everything world where all the norms no longer apply. historic and cultural indentities are dissolving in a sea of sameness. cleave backwards to some dogma if it comforts, remain in the massa confusa of middle ground modernity, or face our dark desire to seek the spirit & soul in all manner of things, in the fragments of our selves which lie in & around us - reflecting back like little pieces of memory. where we are alive is when we see & sense ourselves; momentarily, briefly, vividly - outside our own norm. this too is when we can see others & accept their unfathomable uniqueness. me, you, us, them, they, we - altogether unanswerable by any dogma. unfittingly real. erringly human. questing like soul. this is our condition, and we need imagination and a daring sense of adventure to explore it.

answers are dogmas posing as intelligence, cunning devices to stop the soul seeing further into the mystery of itself. the best answers pose fresh questioning or they be static dead. a comma is far, far better than a full stop.

can we re-discover & re-vision our imagination of reality; look for the cracks in the obvious... catch a glimpse of this other working within us?

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