Monday, February 16, 2009

The Vanishing room, comment on "on passing through doors"

There's been doors i've had to go through in the last few months, doors i saw and doors that I did not see. A dangerous thing to have change happen and not to notice, a frightening thing to suddenly notice that you're in a different place than you thought you were.

I have had to look around and recognize my sorroundings, to understand my place in the space, what am i doing here? how did I get over here? How did I walk in and close the door behind me and not notice?

I recently walked through a door into a place i knew i had to go to and out of a room I had long ceased to belong in.

The room I was in was no longer holding together. it was showing itself to be made of less than solid stuff and unless I left it, it would completely disappear around me. I struggled to remain in the vanishing room. willing with the force and might of all my denial to remake the walls as solid things, to give back the floor and ceiling their opaqueness, to remain in this room I had made myself believe I so wanted to be in.

I now see that I had forced myself to remain there.
In hindsight, I knew going in that this room was never solidly built, but I'd faith in my carpentry skillz.
In hindsight, I know that i saw the vanishing happening, I even knocked down the load bearing wall with my own hands.
so much for carpentry skillz.

The room I am back in now is bare and it is cold here, the walls and floor and ceiling have a raw, unfinished look to them, though solid enough. This is a room I can be in. It has never shown any signs of vanishing. This is a room I was working on before while I was in Sardinia.
I know that the foundations are sound in this room and if it's not pretty, it is good shelter.  More than that, it is where I need to be now.

I abandoned the work in this room to go to the vanishing room.

I was enticed into the vanishing  by it's beauty and promise and novelty and excitement. 
it was a cooperative effort, the vanishing room. unlike this room, where no one was allowed, a work in progress, you don't want to go in there, it's a dirty mess and there's no place to sit and talk. Let's sit on these big cushions and look at all the pretty things on the walls and look out the windows at the possible futures we could make. And our dreams were the things that glittered and shined so pretty and our plans were the rich colors of all the tapestries and hangings and cushions everywhere. 

When i found i was alone in this vanishing room, i noticed things began to disappear around me, cushions, carpets, hangings, statues, bookshelves, pretty pottery and other things. I saved a few things and I'll keep them safe, things that did not disappear, the things that were real in the vanishing room, some things i had brought with me, others we made there.

I will continue the work in my room. lots of cleaning and arranging, holes to patch, years of dust and grime to clean off the windows. so much neglect. it's gonna take some time and work place liveable, it's a hazard right now. there still needs to be some breaking down and rebuilding in here. The work might never end.
 but I will make it home here and maybe i'll invite a friend in now and again. And I will keep the treasured things we made in the vanishing room to remind me and to warn me and even to warm me.

1 comment:

Sea-llama said...

So a friend of mine asked me what I learned through my experience in the vanishing room. and I said, I learned that the hard earned lessons should not be discarded, that growth is a continual process
and that when I choose to neglect that process I do so at my peril. And that no right relationship can flourish
if I abandon myself for it. Thanks Jo!