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enough (definition)

Each time I publish a scrapbook page, I feel I toss it from my high window.  Its conceptual origami catches an earthly wind.  I watch it disappear, blown far from my obelisk’s shore into a virtual populace.  Over a frantic boulevard it floats, settling on a concrete  median beneath a floriferous  tree, there on the packed dirt amongst chicken bones, leaves, plastic cups.   How is it it you reached down to pick it up?  How is it, amongst fumes, glare, pedestrians in tight pants,  honking horns (so many dangerous vehicles)  you even noticed my scrapbook page?

If my scrapbook page pleases you, orange stars and plus signs  shower my desktop (like like like), confetti tossed in friendly appreciation from you, out in that fleet & fleeting world.

I am grateful for your appreciation.

One year ago today I flung my first scrapbook page out into the world–a piece of notebook paper with some scribbled words (read it here.)     I’ve found an earlier  piece of notebook paper, excavated and illustrated it with figures about the complex concept “enough.”   I’ll publish these figures + torn text one-at-a-time this week.

To start,  I give you a graph, and a definition, of the word “enough”:

Is it enough?  I think so.  I think you are.  Enough.

Thank you for looking.  Thank you.

–The Odalisque

figures (overwhelm) redux

I feel overwhelmed.  So I decided to reblog these figures from some time ago.  Figures, as I mention on my about page,  are what I use to illustrate complex concepts.   I am working on some new figures, too, which I will publish later.  I think they are about the word ENOUGH, but we’ll see.

Black swan would like you to know that he is overwhelmed, too.  He is squawking and flapping his wings in the tidal marsh below to communicate his persistent shock and dismay.   We ate TURKEY on Thursday,  not swan, but it still was not a good day for the black swan.  (click here if you don’t know what I’m talking about).  Soon,  I’m going to have to dump out the bones, and I just hope they’ll fall somewhere he’ll never see them.

So here’s  an old post, on the word OVERWHELM.

Figures [click to enlarge]:

fig. 1

figures 3, 5, & 22

I look up

like I’ve fallen down stairs.

recursive figure

Figure [recursion]: a figure approaches

I’m reading about art and the abyss.  The book was first published in France in 1955.  I read then gaze–longingly,  futilely–into the depths of my teapot.  I struggle to disclose in dissimulation some ceaselessly murmuring silence, some infinite-far which cannot be arrived at, though it entombs me.    If only, I think, suffocating in the extremity of my super-abundant exclusion,  if only I could SPEAK, not of art and the abyss, but of odalisques & the abyss, which is practically the same thing.

But first I have to answer the question that one amongst you– oh creatures of flight known as readers–posed…how did I get into my obsidian obelisk?  I will answer that, in my first attempt at popular entertainment, very soon.

Questions for me, The Odalisque?  Comment or email me here.

“In this communication it is obscurity that must reveal itself and night that must dawn.  This is revelation where nothing appears,  but where concealment becomes appearance.”–Maurice Blanchot, The Space of Literature, tr: Ann Smock

–The Odalisque

figures (obelisk triangulation)

[click to enlarge]

figure [unenumerated]:  boreal

(cross-reference)

figure 2: perspective/aquatic

(cross-reference & view verso)

figure [unenumerated]: astral/beloved

figure 17:  traverse  (the obelisk)

figures (o’er the hills), soliloquy, stage directions

[click to enlarge]

figure [unenumerated]: boreal

ODALISQUE

Midway on life’s journey, the right road lost, I find myself in dark woods

pursued by armed men crying: Nymph!  Goddess!  Celestial Queen!

They say they are artists.

Their eyes are on me.

They do not presume that my solitary repose is neither for being seen nor to better see them.

(I include the confounding nor:  boys, you forget how

pretty you are.)

I will not play hunter, bewitcher, or conquered prey in this interminable masquerade.

Is there love otherwise made?

Leave me alone.  Go away.

(foot fiercely stomped.)

(bows lustily drawn. )

(swift incurable flight.  hooves.)


figure 7: boreal (otherwise)

otherwise

portraits: transitive property

Portrait of the Odalisque as a young girl:

Portrait of the young girl as an artist:

Portrait of the artist as odalisque:

figures (overwhelm)

Figures [click to enlarge]:

fig. 1

figures 3, 5, & 22

Early morning

when birds start the grey rustling of their undergarments and dawn spills into its bowl like piss

I look up

like I’ve fallen down stairs.

why does the phoenix want to garb me in fire?

I first asked this question in my post on fashion.

[click to enlarge]

[cued]

 


( Phoenix: no fear of darkness.  darkness/fathoms/fire.  journey/easy. it circles/home.  ODALISQUE ODALISQUE ODALISQUE/you’re afraid of fire.  I bring a light/a match/and strike it.  FORGET MYSELF AND WATCH YOU.  COLLAPSE/LIKE WAX/COLLAPSES.  AROUND AN INTERIOR FLAME.)

figures

[       ] Odalisque.

click to enlarge.


Fig. 1

Fig.2

Fig.2 (Verso)

Fig.13

(ghosts carry blessings & strange dreams around sharp corners through cracks in the sill.)

(moonlight turns the turn of the stair into an ascension.)

(nails loosen.)

(boards creak.)

(ghosts carry blessings and strange dreams in their open palms.)

(breathlessly.)

(careful

they are exquisitely delicate

accumulations.)

(tangles of dust pins string hair.)

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