Monday, September 12, 2005

The Other Sight

Writers are titanists. They create worlds.
They write in stone. They are aware of the weight of stone and should be careful, like Atlas, when they shrug.
Because every natural thing exists in a duoverse, as itself and as a cypher for ancient memories and dreams and history, and whether we use fairy ointment or infra-red goggles, we need the gift of double vision.
What does a mystery writer think when he sees stone? A blunt instrument? Or a killer's heart? Or both?
Does a science fiction writer see an alien life form or a forerunner civilization? Or both?
Does a romance writer see an insurmountable barrier to dreams or a mere excuse to fall into a lover's arms? Or both?
Stone.
Formed in ancient molten chaos, plated, synclined, submerged, thrust and worn. Igneous, volcanic and sedimentary.
Then we came, like a hand over the waters and we rose like the mountains.
At that moment, stone became more than an inert, vast and natural aggregate, solid and scientifically classified according to mineral content, geological age and chemical properties.
Because we used stone. We wrote on it. We chiseled our way into its heart. We formed images of ourselves.
To make a path, a road; to build a wall, a rampart, a weapon; to enclose a sacred place, to set an altar, a monument, a spire.
Stone became mossed with sweat, slaked by blood, and washed by grief.
Stone became irrevocably metamorphic and we are fossilized within it like our footprints.
We sink, we throw, we harden. And when we are dead as metaphors, we may be covered - by stone.
We carve in stone, still.

6 comments:

Rhonda Stapleton said...

Thanks for popping by my blog and leaving me my very first comment. [grin]

I like the entry you wrote today. Thanks for the food for thought...

Bernita said...

Thank you. I'm looking forward to reading your new blog.

ScaramoucheX said...

I beg to differ...this 'writing in stone' is opposite to what I think I do on my blog...I think this writing on the internet is ephemeral, gossamer, intangible and built like light! I may feel weighty as I write but, having written, I invariably feel lighter...I suppose the weight comes with the attentions of others, which is better achieved, still, through the medium of paper. Thanks for another well-written post, that has the sheen of your polish...by the way, I wish you'd post a photo on the blog of someone you claim is yourself...I haven't figured out how to do that myself yet, though...I wouldn't post a picture of the real me,anywhow...

ScaramoucheX said...

Hah! A have done it...posted the profile photo...it is me, and not me, like my writing. I can tell you how to do it, if you need to.

Bernita said...

It's just a foundation metaphor, scaramouchex, and you have validated it.
Thank you.
I do not care to pose as a decapitation.
As you say, a picture is and it is not, yet it sets an image like an idol's eye.I do not think the way I look.

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