dissolution at the threshold of other
who unfolds you onto your own pathways? re-membering you not archivalily but in presence–without a dissolution at the threshold of other into other? yet the materialization of self is neither accessed nor culled without the tug of other? we are, i am, dependent on other. damnation and delight arise as parallel paths divert persistent distance through wakes and awakenings of other and self. one is perturbed into the other and the other into self. shifting distances stirring awareness of difference and sameness. and at these thresholds of contact, how does one not plunge fully into other or pull back tripping on and into an isolation of oneself? maintenance of parallel paths seems…boring, sleep inducing. yet how does one navigate the oceans of others while curling and wiggling one’s toes deep into a rich ground of self that is not experienced as perpetually shifting?
“There is no one in whom to remember the dream of yourself.” – L. Iragary, One does not stir without the other.
I have been inclined to dissolve at the threshold of other. Or at least a historical pattern. Perhaps an emotional laziness. Though that infers a relatively high degree of conscious choice versus the undercurrents of compulsion, of the unconscoiuos mind working itself out into real space. Yet the dissolution of self, privileging other at the expense of a self, in particular ways has never served others or myself for extended benefit. Instead it has functioned more by generating loss. Creating a tangible taste of something missing, leaving both somewhat isolated and hungry for what isn’t.
It is interesting to me that these notions, fears of loss/failure and attractions, surface first in the physicality of my art imaginings and not in situated contextually in the relationships. That art in fact provides access points into myself as though art making is simply an act of thinking and listening. Locating myself in my relational movements has only proved navigable in my art making not via conscious thought. My mind is always trying to catch up with what my body already knows or is working through. It is as though my self awareness is mildly retarded to my inner experiences and my body accounts for the realities on my lived experiences and reactions. My body through my art process brings my inner world into reach.
I like the Butlerian notions generative identity formation as an accounting of self. Not only that but it is an accounting that invokes assessment. Is not art an accounting of self? Accounting in a way that invokes assessment, suggesting action.0