Truth. Remember the movie “Melancholia”? The planet is bound for earth. It could be a comet, anything big enough to destroy. And I’m laying here in my bathtub. Not entirely at ease, but mostly. A peculiar thought really, that we may be imperiled. I dismiss it soon after. Stuff like this happens on tv, in films. Somehow the conviction persists that it never hits me, definitely someone else, before or after my time. I remember a quote very vaguely, must’ve been some story with a moral. Though I can’t retell the tale, I have a recollection of it pointing out the ignorance of humans as we read about death in the tabloids, hear it on the news, expose ourselves to the same in movies, books, games – you name it – and still, somehow push the truth of our own certain death aside. I’d like to stray from the topic of death though, because in this moment the scene of the bathtub and a planet on collision course with earth is more gripping. A mere thought. But why not us?
The frame is frozen , the planet suspended in midair, zooming in, somewhere in the midst of this bizarre image a bathtub and a lone human being. How intoxicatingly plain. I am drawing the outline with my finger, eyes closed, like an artist with pretend brushstrokes in thin air. Now if you stand right in front of me , a little to the left, you can see what I see. You can feel what I feel. In the light of despair and annihilation a moment of nothing, of silence. I have rarely met the same magic fill my throbbing heart with bliss.
In this standstill, allow me to walk you to the next frame. It’s a little sketch, some lines are smudged, not without purpose. I am sitting on a couch cross-legged. The planet – of course – forgotten. Not so a certain feeling dancing across the endless plains of what may be my self. A hint of ecstasy fastened to the vibrance of the rocking sea. Just a gentle sway, a slow dance of the heart, so rich, so sweet. Do you recognize the glistening surface? A show of affection as the water cradles the open sky, such tenderness, a seesaw of devotion united on the horizon’s thin line. I am the onlooker and sometimes more. You may part from this painting in search of added excitement or in fear of boredom, but by doing so you walk right past me. I’d like to invite you to join me on the couch. Shh.
From time to time, I look up, not even a recognizable movement of the head, just the fleeting glance to meet you. I am closer to recognizing that I do indeed know of the planet zipping toward us. The wick is so unimaginable short , the light so unimaginable captivating. And all so insignificant. The push , which I now lay to rest along with my resistance makes way for surrender. A thought for another day – maybe. Because right in this instance, my glance meets yours. We have been friends for decades. Friends. Before anything else matters, we collide utterly, absolutely, without the slightest hesitation. We are the unmatched “boom” of earth and comet in reckless, unfiltered, heavy, full, ripping and wrenching love. So pure, so, so forceful we are torn to shreds. A universe falling into a universe, in reverse, a black hole exploding, just the near impossible stride of the basilisk kissing the horizon, uniting heaven and earth, and all is none.
Ok, time to go.