-A window ajar is a prelude in building to the joy of being limitless! That uneasiness of being familiar somehow, sometime, somewhere.......

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Water.....


Lets do a J Locke on water.
Think water.
Think how a sparkly drop slithers off gracefully from the tip of the tangerine leaf onto the one below , think how the ripples in a pond grow and grow into their own slow death.
Think how slimy heavywet your socks feel after an accidental rainpuddlewalk, or how the fingertips feel as you write on a moist puffedamp window pane.
Think how it is to hear the cavernous eternity of the tides roaring one after the other lying on a beach, or the tap that leaks so excruciatingly on a lazy afternoon.
Think of that watertaste on your parched tongue just after a long summer run, or think of how heavy and pregnant the evening smells just before a tropical rain.
Yes that water.
If original thought is regarded the prized accomplishment of man as a being, then water is the thought of nature. The undeniable symbol of the eternity of being and becoming.
Water is the visible form of the universe.

Think water, think life.

~6/4/06
On a Motorway.

4 comments:

Unknown said...

liked this one. had me actually feeling, hearing the tides, or the smell of rain...very vivid!

El enigma said...

totally adorable pic :)

enig

Ubermensch said...

Im glad adhoc, and then there is vision and taste!

enigma,
Thanks, it is indeed.

alcippe,
Are you whom I think you are?
Im happy you loved it. Its merely a passing attempt; Im sure you would have noticed each sentence deals with one sense, a form of expression widely prevalent in 18th century europe esp in painting!
Thanks

Ubermensch said...

You did? Then you deserve the credit.I cant show you something, you dont know.
About the question of who be you? let me take a wild shot..
There are two walls touching to become a corner, each of them carry a window , arched , naked and defenceless. The sky through the first is deep blue and hangs distant , embellished by pewter clouds shined by the hidden sun. the land is uneven , moored at places and dry green , an old house or a barn overlooks like an wise old man into a longing promise of indistinct hills.
The second window opens into a vast land bare and flowing far while the sky looks brighter and naked. Somewhere in the corner , must be the burning sun. but you cant notice it for now.
Makes any sense?

Bingo? Not bingo?

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