Some things can only appear when all externality has gone; they have a will of their own. I manipulate the material, an externality, and try to conform it to what I think is my will; again, an externality; but I am not in full control. I learn, rather, to nudge and guide the material, and grow more and more to accept ‘chance’, or the ‘will of the material’, whatever that may be; and through that process negate or mitigate externality, so that those ‘things’ might appear.

The wail, the cry, urgency, harshness, pain, alarm, terror, fear. A baby crying, demanding attention, captivating attention, grabbing attention; primitive primal discontent; dissonant and lacking. Suffering the appeal to appease, to apologise, to appear.

Viewing by LED floodlight, 30w, 2250 lumens. Artificial light, pulsing on and off, starting and stopping, in repetition; causing the works to appear in short repeating bursts, discrete repeating manifestations; existing in discrete repeated bursts, to give the impression of a continuous, coherent and unified existence. Is that how we exist? Is there a point at the sub-atomic level, or beyond, where the ‘somethings’ that constitute us appear repeatedly in short discrete bursts? Do we go in and out of existence? Where do we go when we are not appearing, in the gaps between appearances? Do we flicker and snow? We would flicker if the appearing of our constitutive parts happened synchronously, and we would snow if each part had its own peculiar rhythm, vibration, or wave, oscillating between existence and oblivion. Or do we oscillate between this common reality and a spiritual reality? Are we flickering and snowing in the spiritual realm too? Is that how we can sense it; the pneuma, the presence, the vital force, the spiritual force? And what of a neuron, and the electrical impulses, and the ‘somethings’ that constitute the brain? creating the flickering and snowing thoughts that make up our minds.

The twitches, the glitches, the vibrations, the oscillations, the snowing, the appeals, the cries, the attention grabbing movements, the small movements, the on-the-edge-of-one’s-vision movements, that call to us, that appeal, that appear.

Is a poem emerging, where things flicker and snow? Ebullitions, where things bubble and boil, sudden outbursts of emotion, wailing. Is this some kind of wish fulfilment? a desire to go back before the corruption of man, to a paradise, to a proto-creation, to the mystery of creation, pure, pristine, as intended, all in harmony with your intention, moving like you, with you, in harmony. If I moved like light would there be union, communion?

I see you, I feel you;
blazing in front of me
flickering, snowing, bubbling, boiling, blazing
moving like light
moving like you.