Thursday, July 5, 2007

Thresholds


In the ancient Near East and throughout the Aegean world, bees were seen as a bridge between the natural world and the underworld. As such, they were a natural theme in the decoration of tombs. There are even some tombs in the shape of beehives, I think there are some near Muscat. I'm fairly sure Muscat is in the Emirates, if I ever go back that way I will visit them.
Dreams are threshold events, so perhaps it's natural that some of mine have been visited by bees. This time they seem to be coming the other way. Perhaps they're from my own tomb, swarming out of the dark to prepare me. Or bringing me a message about something I need to do before I get there.
That's what the analysis is for, and it's almost time to start analysing. So far I've just been fishing, dredging up baskets and seeing if any bees are inside. I think I've been putting off a real procedural analysis, not necessarily because I don't believe it works, maybe because I do believe it. I've always felt that if you dredge up any treasures, they lose their shine once they break the surface - then they just become dull tangible objects. Crude lumps of matter the likes of which we shove around all day long. To truly appreciate them, to allow them their real essence, you have to leave them where they belong, down in the dark.
But that can't be right, because I know they sometimes surface of their own accord, infusing everyday objects with uncanny powers. If you occupy the threshold, you can see that happening.
Doing an analysis might not be so bad. After all, I'm doing it on the computer, which I think is also a threshold. Things appear on my screen and manifest themselves in my world, from where? I put things out there, but where and when is this communication really taking place, what distance is it crossing? Who am I really talking to right now? An absence.
In some way, what's happening here isn't really happening, not yet anyway. It could be the perfect venue for threshold occupants to show themselves and run wild.

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