Looking out the train window, I realized that my sight functioned differently: things appeared smaller, bleaker and darker than normal. As the train cut through the fields of burning grass, I understood that what I saw, smelled and felt was an internal reality: the space confined within another, undefined one. This reduced physicality was doubtlessly a result of the confrontation between the memory of things, and the things themselves. This very conflict, with its elementary dialectics, explains the necessary coexistence of the contradicting worlds within each and every one of us. I traveled through space and time like an archeologist travels through the Earth.

There are two metaphors that come to mind when I think of the uncertainty and excitement of taking one layer after another off of the all-containing organism of time: the process of palming, and the existence of the blind spot. The latter one being perhaps the more appropriate one to begin with, as it relates to the ultimate equilibrium of giving and taking.

CONTINUE


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