The object, the photo in this case, should clear out a space for contemplation. If it is successful, the viewer will be called to . And then read it to me. Tell me who I am. For God’s sake.
I will unveil two secret jokes not apparent in the result but part the process and certainly playing a part in the portrait from my point of view. My computer’s camera captures images as mirror reflections, so originally the titles of the books were truly “reflective” but downright dyslexic, a deciphering challenge. I decided, ultimately, that the challenge would not be worth the effort (in deference and tribute to my fellow Lichtenbergians). The other secret detail is that my photo editor includes an effect called “antique.” Seemed an apt click to make at the finish.
I love your bookshelf. And I love you, marc.
Yes, the choice of titles is intriguing, but what’s more amusing is imagining how long it took Marc to choose and arrange them.
Lovely photo.
He probably bought them as a set from a door-to-door salesman. I’ve seen this before, actually. It’s billed as the Meister Eckhart “Genius Collection.” One comes in the mail each month, satisfaction guaranteed. If you don’t like it, simply send it back for a full refund. I’ve heard the binding on this series is excellent.
In Marc’s defense, you will notice the two books on the bottom: the Neo-Futurist plays that we talked about over on Lacuna. So those at least didn’t come from Meister Eckhart.
You have unlocked one more secret. The books, aside from the ones on the future of theatre, were all ordered from Amazon during two recent periods of manic intensity on two consecutive days. They have been stacked on my dresser since their arrival in the order you see.
Ah, but soon…the Great Working will begin…soon…
The concept came in as a full gestalt yesterday morning during the completion of a bowl of Raisin Bran. Five minutes to position the stack. Five to fiddle with color. Hmnh. I exercise my capacity for time devouring pursuance these days only when unearthing little known samples of Brigitte Lahaie’s work in the late Seventies. And when putting together quirky indiscreet sentences.