Polysemic Stupor

Greetings all. Well it has been a while hasn’t it! Over a year, wow! And what a year. Here follows a renewed attempt to process being with scribblings. I never find a way for text editing software to recreate how language emits through me – so I’m attaching a PDF file and an image of the opening page. Hope you are all staying healthy and safe.

3 thoughts on “Polysemic Stupor

  1. niasunset

    ….now I am in a different place in my own world, I mean my mind and my heart. Writing, reading, thinking and understanding… these words , between all these words there is “situation of days… of life… but wasn’t it like that always? why now I feel so complicated and being lost in pandemic days/thoughts… I wonder if our existence has meaning anymore…. people die even alone even hidden funerals,… pandemic days… when I read you dear N Filbert, as if I wished to find a key… key…? key of life…? I am not sure, I should read you again. The near-unconsciouness of possible meaning… everything starts from the beginning… because…?can you tell me something that didn’t die in this world… I should say this too, I am so glad to be here, to see you, wrote. Thank you, Love, nia

  2. Dear Nia – I have other friends from your region/area expressing similar disheartening and a kind of “lostness.” I have no “key” to life or living, except that it seems to be, to continue. Yes, I think it is “like that always” – but also yes, I think that changes spur in us, or enable various attentions to the simple (infinitely complex) passages/passageways/passing-through life is. “Pandemic days” might be ‘days of war,’ or ‘days of famine,’ or ‘days of disaster’ – no? We are always encountering and letting-go as you are so good at finding in your craft and your photographs – the sun, the plants, the persons, the animals, the streets, the rain, the clouds… yes it seems consistent in its opening to us and carrying on… and seems there is almost infinite spaces of possible attention in every “between all these words” – and just what is noticed gets marked, briefly, by particular living beings. The “stupor” that has kept me silent for over a year IS the kind of overwhelm finite living things (we) encounter in the polysemy (infinitely variable possibilities) of life going on. Nia, I continue to follow you and check back largely because you elicit and expose variations and attention and moments-of-being. YOU give hope… perhaps I only attempt to describe or transcribe my confusion and experience. (if my writings are confusing…maybe I’m not doing so bad? Sigh.) Thank you always for reading me. It makes a difference that anyone attends to anything that passages through my particular finitude. All best, keep letting living pass through you – none of us have very long even in the best of times – but I feel confident there’s always more than we’re able to perceive…

  3. niasunset

    Dear NFilbert, what a beautiful reply, you are always so nice. Life is not same as before… all of us found ourselves in another level/stage/whatever you call…but words are still same, standing there… but the problem about myself. You are doing great and always I love reading your pieces. How many years I have been following you, I can’t say now, but everything so fastly changed. The world looking a different human view now… Politics, economics, cultures, climates,..etc. they all run in the same death line… everything turned to a game of survivor now… maybe it was always like that, but with this coronavirus hit us all… I can’t understand now as before… even the simplest things are being so complicated for me. Sorry if I made you to think different… In this geography everything that happens around us is pushing the limits of our patience… But Thank you, your reply made me to feel better, and also Thank you for your beautiful words, I’ll try to remember always. I would be waiting always what you write next… Stay safe, Love, nia

"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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