Identity / frame

A meandering meditation on the power of unchecked identity

Identity / frame

How exquisite
Look at those lines, those brush strokes
The colors, the light, those stars
A whole world within this frame

Oils and pigments transformed into stars in the night sky
Distant and right there within your grasp
Vividness, meaning
A whole world, no, a universe within this frame

The frame, it protects
It holds
It focuses
your gaze on that universe within it

“I am the protector
Guiding”, meditates the frame

“Ah, what would this scene be without me?
Just oil and pigments
No focus
Bright dots on a blank scroll“

“I am the giver of meaning
The source of focus
The protector
I ask for nothing, but why”, wonders the frame

“You look through me
To seek meaning
To appreciate
To comprehend”

“Why does that scroll, that universe, that night sky, matter?
Why do the colors, the light, those stars matter?
I give your gaze focus
I give you meaning“, exclaims the frame

The frame, moloch-like, grows
The lines begin to fade
The colors dull
The light less bright, no stars, not a universe

You look away
You look back
The frame grows
Identity grows

The frame, moloch-like, engulfing what was within
Only identity
all defining, all consuming
No nuance, no love

What was in there once, you wonder
Were those lines there at all
The colors, the light, those stars
Or was it just the frame?

Those frames
you were looking through
Are those frames
all that remain of you?

Written – ~ December 2021
Published – July 23rd, 2022

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