flowing from a state
of utter bewilderment
driven by madness
in search of meaning
the dark lines form
memories of a dream
that seems to transcend
my body tethered to the earth
There are countless moments from which one might find inspiration to create and construct new worlds. The creative moment releases infinite possibilities through which we can lose our sanity and our madness alike: a synthesis in which sanity and madness form something utterly beautiful.
Photographs carry within them bewilderment, confusion, but also creative possibilities of meaning and sense-making. We find ourselves confronted with worlds beyond the reach of our fingertips, but we can live ourselves through the colour, through the lines on the screen, and through the memories that we conjure up.
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We gain a privileged insight into the working mind of our consciousness. We dream awake and when we are awake we think about our dreams and what they mean.
We stare at a blank wall in order to understand, but the only voice we ever hear when we scream into the void is the one we are so familiar with already. We cannot escape the clutches of our reflection, the moment in which we are stuck, the very thing we are trying to escape, is what gives meaning to our thoughts. Like the container filled with milk, we aim to destroy the thing that provides stability.
But is this not the function of art and contemplation? To remove the scaffolding that keeps the edifice from falling into itself? Are the things that we always try and rid ourselves of not what gives ultimate meaning?
When we find meaning in our dreams, they lose their dreamlike perspective, they lose their meaning. As soon as we understand that which we actually don't want to be understood - in their un-understandability they find meaning - we cease creativity. Paradoxically, meaning is derived from the impossibility of finding meaning.
I found myself utterly absorbed by the memories of a dream I had. It felt like I was there, but at the same time, it felt like I was never there. A nostalgia mixed with déjà vu that transported me to various places, where sounds became edible pieces of cake and where colours signified sounds that I could not decipher. I felt lost in my own world, I was unable to make sense of the basics that brought meaning to life. I could not understand the feeling of uncanniness.
There is a certain level of drunkenness to thinking about the memories of a dream. It feels fleeting and out of grasp, as if grabbing at clouds only to see the droplets of water on your hand evaporate when the sun shines on them. There is a certain level of strangeness the longer we think about the dreams we have. They feel unreal, as if they disintegrate the longer we stare at them.
But they pul us closer, like photographs through which we can relive moments long passed.
In any case, I hope that you enjoyed these writings and photographs, as they had a very dreamlike feeling to me as I think back to them.
For now, happy photographing and keep well.
All of the writings and musings are my own, albeit inspired by the strange sensation I got while editing the photographs. The photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Nikkor 50mm lens.
I wonder what they'd look like without the green tint.
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