Nearly three months have passed since ‘Our Particular Shadows’ first went out into the Amazonian Sea! It will now pass out of exclusivity and go into wider distribution.
To celebrate the occasion, here are some excerpts from the narrations:
The Narrations begin thus:
I stretched out my hand. Did you know that?
Did you know, that one night; one moonless, clear, shining night; with the shadowy silhouettes of trees crisp against the star-filled sky – I, on the high, level terrace of my flat, stretched out my hand! Against all odds and possibilities of unbelief and grief – a life of searchings, discontent, and a nagging sense of unreality… A spider-web intuition of a spread-out, intricate illusion that wilfully withheld the truth from me. …
It was all decided then; this was it.
‘Farewell World. Maya – Illusion. I see through you, you are actually only emptiness. A vacuum filled bubble. Nothing about you shall affect me, or has affected me for a long, long time. I am outside the circle now; so what’s the difference?’ …
A magician took me for a dream-ride once. He swished his wand, and there he was, the conductor of that night’s dreams. What could I do, he was magic; and I had forgotten mine.
There was a lion I remember, we flew on it, with a Goddess, who showed us her realm. It was our world, just seen from above, and deeper. Layers and layers, and living metaphors, peeled away and joined again. Like sections of mist frozen in a photographic frame, suddenly coming alive! Swirling and forming shapes.
Does she inhabit our world, or are we trespassers on hers? – I thought. …
Poison, I want poison.
One long, never-ending, luxurious, rainbow numbness.
I, through broken eyes on my fractured, devastated world rain sorrow. The thin leash of reason slips away.
Oh, I have reason to despair. I do.
Everything I touch nowadays breaks. There is too much power in me, and too little. Nothing fits, it’s all falling apart.
I would will up a world to plug up the holes in mine, but— …
So, we went up a mountain, you and I. And came, almost safely back? Then why this distance now? Why are we hiding from each other, even as we stand not three feet apart? You, standing by the railing, holding it tight – staring into the precipice below. And I, by this boulder – vacuously – slipping down to sit on it. It’s nearly a week since we last spoke to one another. And we weren’t even apart!
Weren’t there days, of blue and glowing white sky, when joy seemed a never-ending season of yet more blinding light? That bulb of bright shattered abruptly. And millions of tiny shards of glass flew at us, and coated our skin. Now, we can’t even touch, it rends us with too much pain. …