the form of what they were
to meet the light with its ridges
setting the stage
for its transformative
Consciousness flows under the hard encrustations of experience. The crust sometimes breaks apart and what was thought to be deep is actually as thin as an eggshell.
In Difference and Repetition (1968), Gilles Deleuze writes about the doubleness of consciousness: “It is not enough to say that consciousness is consciousness of something: it is the double of this something, and everything is consciousness because it possesses a double, even if it is far off and very foreign. Repetition is everywhere, as much in what is actualised as in its actualisation.” And even the word “double” suggests a copy whereas it isn’t an exact copy by any means. It’s a strange world of “doubles” in our consciousness. A world of metaphors that are not the thing nor can be said to resemble the thing. Any replication has differences. The so-called copy is something else already “far off and foreign.” A tree is replicated in the woods and replicated in my mind and then both trees replicated into an image and then replicated in any mind that sees this image. But not quite replications. The twin trees are not trees at all, but rather slippery multiplicities.
Do the cliffs close in to the right or open up to the left? Are these echoes of each other, without a source? Or are they more like strips of paper simulating weight through shading?
And because why not put them together.
And just for fun.
The illusion of Being can be seen by a silhouette itself, how it can appear like a cut out (the negative space or the void of Being) and yet also have weight and hardness, and, in this case, how the form can mimic other forms like those of a cloud.