away

"Once I wanted to prove the world was sick. Now I want to prove it healthy. The detection of sickness means that death has established itself as an element of the timetable; it has come within the range of the measurable. Where there is no time there is no sickness."

Roy Fisher, from "City" in The Dow Low Drop: New and Collected Poems (Newcastle: Bloodaxe, 1996), p. 27.

So do I, so do I. That's why this winter vacation, after having cursorily dispatched the season's greetings, I made a vow of (temporary) timelessness. No emails, phone calls, and let alone facebooks, twitters & other such follies: dear friends & colleagues and, above all, dearest arse-lickers planning to pester me with selfish requests, I'll be incommunicado till further notice.

Not away from the world, but more fully immersed in it, hopefully, among the snow and the trees, in the shadows, away from the crude light that separates and divides everything into watertight compartments, into senseless schedules.

Away to think, to see, to hear - not to escape.

Voilá!