The Savored Blurs of Fascination

" "To tell what happened" is inconceivable and futile, or possible only as invention.  The idea of testimony is also futile and there has never been a witness who could truly fulfill his duty.  Anyway, you always forget far too many moments and hours and days and months and years, and the scar on a thigh that I saw and kissed every day for years during its known and lost time.  You forget whole years, and not necessarily the least important ones."

--J. Marías Dark Back of Time

The scent of pine and dirt has been rubbed deep into my clothing as of late.  I've been holing up; reading; writing. The images that are conjured around me leave their scents in my clothing and hair like campfire.

It has been enjoyable, to say the least.

With the time change comes the more dramatic descend of the dark. One can be watching the sky, feeling the slight sting reflection of the clouds in their eyes, only to blink, and open to a sheet of black.

(Did you hear it tonight? The moment you opened your eyes; the quick sound of a sheet pulled taut.)

(pause)

There is a paragraph from a book I am reading that I can't stop thinking about.

The sentence of it threading through my mind in this moment is this:

All anyone has to do is introduce an "as if" into the story, or not even that, all you need to do is use a simile, comparison or figure of speech ("he was acting like a jerk", "she flew into a rage"-- the kind of colloquial expression that belongs to the language more than to the speaker who chooses it, that's all it takes) and fiction creeps into the narration of what happened, altering or falsifying it.

The kind of colloquial expression that belongs to the language more than to the speaker who chooses it, that's all it takes. ("Crossed a line", "it is what I must do", "paint oneself into a corner")

This is what I keep thinking of.  These drops of dye into the water that unravel and spread.  These slight stand ins for communication.

These expressions that belong more to the language, than to the speaker who chooses them.  



-k.

(photo credit: billy kidd)

(scent: Norne, by Slumberhouse)