Aquarian with both Moon in Virgo and Virgo rising; a strenuous aspect that inclines one to search for too pinpoint a focus in a too wide a vision; although a boon in local application (ask any eagle) - it is otherwise a gymnastic conundrum that teaches considerable flexibility but little else! Such a natal incongruity set my dichotomous perspective in astrological stone and hence the unremitting hunt for chaos in method, for the price of passion, for cause in shadow.
Grace a dieu, the attenuation by some other quixotic aspect fortunately imbues my character with the sense of humour essential to buffer such affliction, to bolster such burdens; as though driven on a Transilvanian pitch night, being chased by invisible hooves with nought but the most choreographed glimpse from the full moon's sudden glare of a panic striken passengers's stroboscopic lit bleak visage staring at the escaping trees, the resignation of a soul that is beyond impugning its imprisonment and the driver's hoarse exhortations for impossible pace drowned by the wind's preternatural screams, behind which the sounds of the carriage's jostling chains, its complaining structure and the pounding hooves dissonantly echoe in asynchronous cadence.
Whereupon the flailing mantle of ambition and the whip of duty are duly rendered in the twinkle of a mad eye under moonlight, to a frame of broken black and white film wrenching itself from the projectors trap, split but not incinerated, ripped from those parellell possibilities of time's myriad confluences, its flickering image slowed on the screen in stop motion stocatto, the rampant coachman and all his entrails snatched out from Chronos's very bowel
Perhaps Janus will adopt me in sympathy for my position, faced as I am by a mirror with a mirror behind me, as duplicitous infinity curves away from me fore and aft. It escapes my clutches as surely as I am inextricably clutched by it, bound by an illusory temporal effusion that spreads me thinner than butter on each fading slice of reflected vitality, woe is me, woe and thrice woe!
My image making can only reflect what and where I am, whether I know it or not and whether I like it or not. If I can capture but one of those multifacted miscreant moments, perhaps I can demand a ransom; hold it hostage for my soul's keep?
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2 comments:
brings to my mind the images you have created.
You should write, you have a fine mind and a unique perspective on things..
thank you , I have been told that my fine mind is like an old whine
;)
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