Language is the axis along which the self encounters the world. The seam flames. Many of us spend our lives captivated by that slow burn. Some long to pass through the fire, imagining they will arrive on the other side of themselves scorched pure, welcomed, free forever from misunderstanding and explanation. Others are content just to study the charcoal remnants, the serrated shadows cast, the jagged lines of red and blue and green flame.
No comments:
Post a Comment