Nothing Personal II & III
To have the right analogy for the scene at hand. To consult the archive. The jewel thief in the movie, who takes an extra ring, for his darling, and invites his slow demise. The art-machine whose only purpose is to mop the oil leaking from its side. A squirrel in a sparrow feeder who falls into the glut and dies. Perhaps a dog. A dog who chases cars. This whole pursuit looks hopeless, then from a godly angle, more like we've made a start.
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Never saw your real face. Never saw the silver birch. Like mistaking money for food. Or like anything, really. Over dinner with friends the conversation turned to metaphor; how all language is metaphor; how it’s just spending your life reaching over a cliff. Perception is no different: an uncommon silence, a buttery film in the mouth. Just reaching over a cliff. But I believe that below this realm of thought is a different, broader cognisance: the light of high noon on the field, forever. I hope you know what I mean.