💾 Archived View for gemlog.blue › users › StephaneF › 1651330003.gmi captured on 2022-06-04 at 01:54:49. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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I realized something in the car recently - something that seems fundamental to me, even if I don't really know what to do with it, since it challenges my whole existence as I have conceived and organized it so far: the idea that my imagination (whether it is my artistic life or my most intimate mental images) always ends up converting everything, even the most positive and healthy fantasies, into sick and macabre things. I can only imagine sadness, solipsism, defilement, loneliness, weirdness, etc. And if I were reasonable I would give up imagination instead of stimulating it from morning to night as I do, in favor of real, naked life, as it were, and/or the contemplation of beautiful things, of which I am not the author, trying not to embroider on them mentally. Religious worship is clearly the pinnacle of this process of inner stripping for the sake of simply looking at something that is not oneself and does not come from oneself. But I am immeasurably far from it.