| on brightness |
emotions are like the sun, like hard masses of bright hydrogen fire. i prefer to avoid discussing emotions, not because i hate them, but because i respect them. i only speak around them in the way we look at solar eclipses through mirrors, through periscopic contraptions, through reflecting pools. i do not usually directly describe my emotions, much like how people do not directly name god. for me, it is enough that i give them shape by sculpting the territories of their absence. i prefer it that way. things become smaller, to me, when they are stated--grander when they are merely hinted. cinematic terror is larger when unseen, cinematic love even more so. depth is, well, deeper when one cannot see the bottom than when one can. to me, the most beautiful poetry articulates without articulating, pointillizes the area outside and lets the reader glaze them to understand the area within. i only note this by way of explanation. 052100 |