Tag Archives: memory

cadence of the long silences

cadence of the long silences © 2016 Jered Dawnne

cadence of the long silences © 2016 Jered Dawnne: a portion of the facade of the Donohoe Building at the Cherokee Mental Institute

movement
and the Tower, still
transfixed in winged progression
how a soul might fly

     had i known it then
     would i seek for misdirection
     would i yearn for something more
     than the sanctity of tears
     than the wisdom of darklight
     than the strength of unmended minds

Truth
no other vision grows
Star, and its quiescence
the pure and the strong
bereaved in Transformations
that Tower still enthroned
and the multiverse implodes

     had i known it then
     would any of this matter
     would this emptiness still cling
     to the relevance of fear
     to this constant wondering
     to the coldness of broken minds

Moon’s light
above the Tower burning
transfigured in procession
now a soul does fly

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cadence of the long silences © 2016 Jered Dawnne
a variation of “Interim: A Requiem” © 1990.09.05 Jered Dawnne, published 1993 in “The Sabre”

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transient stasis

transient stasis © 2015 Jered Dawnne

transient stasis © 2015 Jered Dawnne

I brought this bench to where it now resides: a brute-force effort moving it from a former home to this place. The decision to move it was arbitrary and a spurious: made on my last pass through the house after it had sold. But I had spent some good time sitting on it where it once was. I had conducted some good pondering there, and even a few photographs were taken from upon it, so it came along for the move.

After the move, I also spent a goodly amount of time perched upon it in its new setting, taking counsel both for and against certain decisions that were being made at the time. The place where it sits had an interesting feel during the night, even without all the things that were in my head: part melancholy, part solace, part fear, part hope, and part maundering. Whenever I come to visit it now, it feels simultaneously of stasis and transience to me: simple projections, both, I have no doubt.

It has always struck me as odd, this human propensity to mentally attribute one’s emotions upon a place. The skeptic in me strongly doubts that we can truly imprint portions of ourselves on places, let alone imbue them with our essences, but nonetheless, we create such deep connections, regardless of rational considerations. This place is one such for me.

When I took this photograph yesterday, I was reminded not only of what this place means to me, but what it might also mean to my children. And how those meanings have undoubtedly shifted over time. That thought, of course, led to considering what I thought of this bench in the place where it was, and of the things I had considered while sitting upon it there, and what its former setting must have meant to my children. And then the all of what had come before. It is a remembering thing in a remembering place, and there are very few things which I have managed to forget across the years.

But the transient stasis I perceive within this bench is nothing but what I carry within myself. My home is wherever I am, and my places of security are things which move within me, and which move with me, and which are ultimately mine alone.

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rimeMorn

rimeMorn © 2007 Jered Dawnne: late winter, Lincoln County

rimeMorn © 2007 Jered Dawnne: late winter, Lincoln County

A mere week after “underTree and overWrought”, my view was thus. Another place I miss quite a bit: this was part of the daily scene from our back porch of our first house in South Dakota. 3.5 acres was beyond our means to keep up with, and that was unfortunate. My upstairs condo of today pales in comparison, and has a far less intriguing view. Although to be fair, the ploughed fields weren’t exactly always “pretty”, either, I suppose.

But, I used to love those rime-covered mornings out there. It’s such an infrequent and fragile thing, the rime, and so very ephemeral. During my first few years in South Dakota, it was a novelty to me, of course, just like snow, sleet, and freezing rain were, growing up in central Texas.

The flat rise across the center of the image is the raised track for the old Rock Island Railroad. For four years or so, it was my favorite place to walk. Two of the old bridges over Spring Creek, built in the late 1800’s, lie to the left of this image, but would be obscured from this vantage. I used to visit them several times a month, as they had their own little ecosystems, and were a welcome distraction from hours upon hours of wedding post production and the long work-days spent for someone else’s benefit.

As winter approaches again, I am reminded that similar mornings remind me of this time, and even of this day in particular. It took me a week to pick up the camera again for myself, after the visit to San Antonio. I shot this having only briefly reviewed the photos from that trip; I was too raw, and raw in a manner it has taken me two handfuls of years to begin to come to terms with, in some ways. I shot this, with “underTree and overWrought” very much on my mind, actually. This was the day I gave it that name. Yes, “briefly reviewed”, for me, actually means a few things.

I learned to love the snow, here. It is very likely that I’ll eventually move even further northward, to the lands where the snow truly rules over all, and covers certain memories from obsession. That wouldn’t be a further evasion of my roots: more of an acknowledgement of the branches I slowly spread.

I might be done with trolling through my memory-factory for a while. There is still a bit of a story to tell, there. But for now, let me be on to other things.

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arch nemeses

arch nemeses © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

arch nemeses © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

for my soccer teammates (Go Team Nemesis!), “nemeses” is the plural form, not another typo! 😉

It’s a funny thing. I took several photos of these arches on that late-winter day, and at the time, I hated them all. The LensBaby was a troublesome thing, there was a throng of people passing behind me the entire time, and impatience got the better of me. In fact, this photo and its iterations are the reason why I only published a few photographs from that day on my old personal blog.

I was closing down Lightroom today, and accidentally clicked on this one; suddenly, I liked it, so here it is. I had cropped it as an 4:5 ratio at some point along the way, apparently trying to see into it in different ways, but I don’t remember doing so. I reset it to the 2:3 aspect ratio I very much prefer, and took it from here.

I do like the full-color original, and I’ll eventually put it out, but “grey would be the color, if I had a heart,” right?

Photography with anxiety: the perpetual mind-fuck.

It’s focused on the extreme lower right: forever frozen there. My kingdom for a flat shot and a bokeh filter, but here you have it: the perpetual dream state.

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the summoning of the muse

downWandered (prime) © 2015 Jered Dawnne

“downWandered (prime)” © 2015 Jered Dawnne

I have, obviously, been struggling to find my Muse again. Half a year, for goodness sake. I am aware, now, that I have been focusing on the wrong things for me. I’m not an eyes-forward kind of guy; I have a side-long view. That doesn’t mean I never look ahead, it means I don’t normally drive along my path just looking forward. Which is, unfortunately, what I’ve been doing of late. I am reminded of some old words of mine from a past, similar time when I struggled to find my Muse. I’ll leave them here while I once again take up the task of finding Her. She’s a damn slippery one, this Muse of mine, and I’ve grown so accustomed to ignoring Her of late, I fear my search will yield little, if anything. She really should be hiding by now. I’ve been an ass lately.

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a value indeterminable
a consolation wrapped in fear
for what has been
it peaks in unrecognized restraint
how faultless
this heartbroken beauty lies
wrapped in a power
now unspoken now unclear

visit me in nightmarish dreams
and i shall reconcile
a fate untold which glistens
in unrequited love
you shelter me in vain
and i cannot come to realize
your uncommunioned strain

assail me not in your digression
nor visit me through windless sheen
or i shall cling to this unsated
that you no longer scream
in the shades before my eyes

——-
“apprehension” – original, 1992.05.23 © 1993, (revised) 2015 Jered Dawnne

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the wintered why

luminarial rime © 2007, 2014 Jered Dawnne

luminarial rime © 2007, 2014 Jered Dawnne

and so completely
entwined in rime and
reason—that dark
shining, at once
luminarial, then
interpolated—now
comes the certain
remembrance of
your embrace:
that cloak of
the wintered why.

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image: “luminarial rime”, original © 2007, monochromed © 2014 Jered Dawnne
words: “the wintered why”, © 2014 Jered Dawnne

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and there are days

saddle-back sky, deeper © 2014 Jered Dawnne

saddle-back sky, deeper © 2014 Jered Dawnne

you close your eyes sometimes, and what is there is what once was; and because it once was, it cannot be unseen, yet is never seen as it once was. it’s a function of memory, a function of time, a function of desire, a function of nostalgia, all of which roll into a certain transient stasis that is both realised and unrealised at the remembering. there are days when such things cannot be ignored, and there are days in which they consume us.

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Text and image © 2014 Jered Dawnne

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