To you, my dear friend
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Woiler, July 14, 2023
Dearest,
Some weeks ago, the day was hot and dry. In the middle of the afternoon, I took a shower. On my exit, I realized that my depressive peak had passed. It was behind me. I could see it, a black wall, so black it seemed to absorb all the light around it. It's over, again, for this time.
As usual, I've changed, or rather I've changed the way I look at things. Pascal Quignard writes: "It's not the doctor, the psychoanalyst, the priest, the antidepressant or the drug that cures depression, it's depression itself". Depression transforms; you always come out of it higher than you were before you went in. And you look down.
The human world is even more violent, but I'm fine. I'm sorry about my artwork, but I'm fine. My social relations have deteriorated a little, but I'm fine. Before returning to human worlds, before resuming my artistic journey, I need silence. To understand what I'm doing here, why I'm doing what I'm doing. Not "how? But "why?". It's the right time.
"Emilie was a modest little girl. At school, her teacher liked her because she was diligent, quiet and looked at her with big dark eyes. In the playground, she was often alone, leaning against a wall, sometimes watching the other children play and laugh, sometimes lost in her own world.
One day, she withdrew so far into her inner world that she finally disappeared, and nobody noticed, not even her parents, as if she'd never existed. As if her inner energy was so strong that her present rewrote her past by erasing it."
One of the theories of quantum cosmology is an embarrassment: according to it, we're supposed to live in a ten- or eleven-dimensional world. With space and time forming just four dimensions, their hypothesis is that the other six or seven are so small as to be curled up at the particle scale.
My dear friend, tell me how you are, where you are, where you want to live.
With love,