Posted: June 4, 2011 in Emerson Challenge

‘People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something.’ ~ Soren Kierkegaard


In walking so trodden a path such as this world, where can one actually arrive that is clear and untainted.
The obvious and the less so have been scarred by their relationship to us that it appears to be an impossibility to alight upon a terrain that is both unfamiliar and accessible. Barring a sabbatical opposing various Chechen warlords or a sojourn amongst favelas, where can we turn to aggrandise our passports.

Imagination has always sought to retreat, in both directions, to other worlds and we can see how this little sleight of hand can have immediate beneficial effects with regards to flight time and TSA seduction. A landscape that is alien enough to be recognisably other yet safe enough to have us home for supper. These worlds come into play every time we enter into our daydreams, our visions of how things could be. And they provide relief for us from the mundane, and jarringly frightening world of our ordinary lives.

We sit in circles on these orange / green plains as perfect weather plays around us gently allowing some minor variance of what we hold as true. White scattered lace, cloud like, tinge just the right shade of non threatening grey, appearing distant and giving the illusion of reality. We remain resting on these forms, the plains then giving way to, yes undulating hills peaking at our own comfortable focal point and snow capped. Why not. Oceans, calm, barely heard, white capped also, to accentuate our fraternal hills. And the natives, why natives … lets place some slightly more pliable forms of ourselves here, providing mostly, and importantly here, a way for our land, our people, to cater to our every wish, our very dearth of vision.

The magician here, in creating a perfect land would quickly run up against the limits of what is known, and what can be attempted, what is really new, and what is already fading as the day breaks. We can speak forever of perfection, whether building a world or a self. What we cannot do though is speak of or envision a world SO alien that is bears no resemblance, no strand or tangent, to the one we already inhabit. We would not recognise this world if we could speak. A world where all of our senses would need to flower anew in order to to accommodate what we are what … seeing?

Until this is possible we travel in dust only; bolted down and waylaid by rumor and necessity.


Emerson Challenge Day # 5


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