Well the nights are fair drawing in, darkness descends earlier and sleeping with the window open has its demands, I like a cold room and hot duvet - hmm, how does that read? Today I have been working on a Chapter commissioned for a forthcoming book and I came across this, Anna Freud once famously said, "in our dreams we can have our eggs cooked exactly how we want them, but we can't eat them." To which we could add from Siggy Freud, "Our desire is always in excess of the object's capacity to satisfy it.'' Which is essentially leading to the idea that we always want more than can have; but are more inclined to blame others for this failure instead of noticing how unrealistic our desires are. Of course, as Lacan says, 'the object with relation to which the fundamental experience, the experience of pleasure, is organised, is an object which literately gives too much pleasure.' Hah! I'm with Webb who says, '...you can't have everything, where would you put it all?' Indeed! And I have also been thinking about the photographs I post on this blog, especially in relation to Diane Arbus's far too famous quotation, 'A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.' A secret about a secret, strangely compelling; what is being kept secret in my picture (above) is that there is a secret. Two degrees of separation in one simple snapshot. Undeniably so, and yet how can I really know? I mean if other people see us in ways that we cannot anticipate; we cannot know ourselves because we cannot be everyone else in relation to ourselves. In other words, the person I see in the picture is not the only person I see, he is also your image of the person you see because he is not defined by himself alone - does my bum look big in this? Phew, its too late on a Friday for 'abstruser musings' to paraphrase Sam T. Coleridge. I might have a dabble of this instead - watch me sway:
