Suresh Punjabi
Portraits
Museum of Art & Photography (MAP) (Bengaluru)
1970s
Portraits
Museum of Art & Photography (MAP) (Bengaluru)
1970s
π₯1
βBy falling asleep, I fall inside myself: from my exhaustion, from my boredom, from my exhausted pleasure or from my exhausting pain. I fall inside my own satiety as well as my own vacuity: I myself become the abyss and the plunge, the density of deep water and the descent of the drowned body sinking backward. I fall to where I am no longer separated from the world by a demarcation that still belongs to me all through my waking state and that I myself am, just as I am my skin and all my sense organs. I pass that line of distinction, I slip entire into the innermost and outermost part of myself, erasing the division between these two putative regions.β
β Jean-Luc Nancy, The Fall of Sleep, trans. by Charlotte Mandell
β Jean-Luc Nancy, The Fall of Sleep, trans. by Charlotte Mandell
β€2
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Norman McLaren
A Phantasy in Colors
1949
A Phantasy in Colors
1949
β€1π₯1
wretched thou art wherever thou art
I sit and work on a line and lean into the pain my mind continues trying to think and all I come up with is a texture without ideas
and to whatever thou turnest β
the body I have is the body I once had but they could not differ more the teacher Agnes says abstract form holds meaning beyond words
I turn the pages of the old book
the way certain feelings come to us with no discernible worldly cause the teacher Buddha says the practitioner agitated by thoughts
I have not held since childhood
makes stronger their bondage to suffering and the sting of becoming during the time illness makes me feel most tied to the material world
β Brian Teare, an excerpt from When we are on the right track we are rewarded with joy
[x]
I sit and work on a line and lean into the pain my mind continues trying to think and all I come up with is a texture without ideas
and to whatever thou turnest β
the body I have is the body I once had but they could not differ more the teacher Agnes says abstract form holds meaning beyond words
I turn the pages of the old book
the way certain feelings come to us with no discernible worldly cause the teacher Buddha says the practitioner agitated by thoughts
I have not held since childhood
makes stronger their bondage to suffering and the sting of becoming during the time illness makes me feel most tied to the material world
β Brian Teare, an excerpt from When we are on the right track we are rewarded with joy
[x]
poets.org
When we are on the right track we are rewarded with joy
wretched thou art
π1
Ingeborg Bachmann, No Delicacies, trans. Margitt Lehbert, from Poetry (October 1998)
π₯2β€1