Wednesday, May 04, 2005

In waiting

First picture of my wife (who gets top billing, due to the labour involved no pun intended) and my future kid, which opens philsophical doors I don't even want to dream of approaching.

The image is formed out of sound waves, so it is literally a first impression. A palimpest of life. No. A corpse is a palimpest of life. An infant (or, as below, younger) is a raised impression. Wet ink. Yet unformed.

Example

Ellery Queen wrote a line which my father-in-law quoted in one of his own short stories, something about "life and death playing footsie under God's table" (would be both melodramatic and sentimental, but any invocation of 'footsie' takes the wind from any philosopher). Not much else to say about the image other than the term 'humbling' across the board. In the same sense one feels in a safe room, with a fine view of a thunderstorm, under a wind-swept garden of skies. Awed simply at what can happen within.

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