Night Swim
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posted by tearful dishwasher at 9:27 PM
Friday, January 06, 2006
About Me
- Name: tearful dishwasher
- Location: U.S. Outlying Islands
Fully engaged in the whole catastrophe
Previous Posts
- Yolanda, 2006
- Lucky Luck Prisoner
- I Am My Own Man
- Ben Has Two Dads
- Instructions
- Happy New Year
- Bullfinch's Mythology or Ode to The Radish King
- I Was Dreaming About This Life
- The Nature of Emptiness
- Cause Me to Know the Way Wherein to Walk
8 Comments:
I love this. This is precisely how I felt driving to work this morning, all alone on the freeway. I keep coming back to look at it. Lovely and dreamy.
xor
How did you manage to make the image of a shark feel so restful?
Rebecca-
Glad you like this one. I like it more than I should, I think.
Laurel-
I think it is the sense of stillness, the feeling that it is just sort of floating there. Maybe the shadow on the wall helps. I dunno.
Yes, it is the stillness. What's that bit about a shark never sleeping, that it exists in a constant state of forward motion?
Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, by Woody Allen:
Love is like a shark; it must keep moving forward or it dies.
Yes, it's the stillness.
i had a different take on this altogether: it seems very possible to me that we are seeing two figures in a bed, one wielding a razor to attack the other. and it's quite possible, too, that the figure being attacked is not another person, but perhaps a pet dog, swept up in its master's nightmare. and the tv, droning on the whole night long, is enough in itself to set up such an attack by invading sleep to such an extent that monstrous things in our dreams suddenly become real. and the shark, maybe from some tv documentary, can be divorced from the event entirely, precipitating it but not a part of it. well. i'm prone to such dreams, if not such rude awakenings, whenever some fool decides he or she cannot bear falling to sleep without that infernal machine to lull one there, like the sound of rain or waves to another. but you're not to blame for such reveries, scott, anymore than the tv itself is to blame: it's we ourselves at fault, and god help us, god bless us, must we be the blame as well as the sickness? jim
and it's possible too that the dream of the shark is born of a very real murderous attack, the last thoughts of a dying victim. ah well. i guess i better go get a new script for my meds. j
Jim-
Well, you are the only one who sensed the same menace in this still and pastel colored piece.
I love what you've written here. Thanks.
Scott
In me the picture summons the memories of allowing the sharks into my life in the past. Which of course invokes the continuous questions of “Did I choose to fail at that relationship? Do I look for the bad seed? Am I destined to not have a wonderful future? Is this karma? Was I someone horrible in a past life?” and may more questions.
For me however, the answer is right in the picture.
It’s the shark that is “out of water” out of place. No the shark does not belong in my life, its just there temporarily.
The clarity of the shark and shadow, the fuzziness of the room, and the distraction of the TV confirm to me that no matter the nightmare, or circumstances this is not real and not my or anyone’s future.
The beautiful part of the picture is like other my favourite quote Love is like a shark - it dies when it's not moving forward voraciously.
Woody Allen - Annie Hall.
I never saw the movie and hate Woody Allen. All I know is I know and have lived the quote and strive to learn from it. My future bedrooms do not come with or include a shark.
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