Erebus Albicincta Obscurata


“I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.”

Andrea Gibson 

Today is the first day of winter, winter solstice, the longest night. The day the sun stands still. Some people say we should look into ourselves, find peace, gather strength and prepare for the light. Even though I often fail to turn the light on in the office, I don't like darkness. Some people, where I used to work, called me Dark Lady, which I'm not. The truth is I find darkness unnerving. Not in a strictly negative sense though. It's not scary, it's just ... too big to comprehend. Like a deep void, silent and impenetrable. There's nothing there, but then again, anything may be there. 

My first contact with Erebus was on a snowy winter day when I was ten or eleven and I read an article about Sir John Franklin's polar expedition. I imagined Erebus and Terror ploughing pack ice until they disappeared into darkness. I remember thinking whoever named those two ships, wasn't in their right mind. Later I found out there were other reasons behind the names. At first they were battle ships and the names ought to inspire fear in the enemy's fleet. They certainly succeeded to inspire fear in me, back then. 

Erebus is one of those deities I strangely fail to remember. Personification of darkness or god of darkness, the son of Chaos. According to Hesiod, Chaos is gaping chasm, the empty space, the void, or the place where everything else exists. I love that definition. It corresponds with the Great Void I've been searching for in other people's as well as in my paintings and calligraphy abstractions, perfectly. I only have to add the possibility of non-linear time, of every moment happening at the same time and I'm at the end of my search. But I don't think it's that simple. Sometimes I think I will never be able to really understand the Void. At other times I'm almost certain understanding has nothing to do with it. Perhaps I should just let go, stop thinking and just feel. Perhaps it's like tango, dancing to Oblivion*, which is nothing but the other side of the Void, of Chaos.

Erebus Moth? I don't know much about him, actually I don't have to. He's beautiful and in my mind huge. I picture him in watercolours, in Prussian blue, indigo and caput mortuum violet. He slowly turns the light down low, enveloping me in his silky darkness until I can feel the smell of ice cutting my nostrils. 


* Oblivion, Astor Piazzolla

Erebus Albicincta Obscurata (photo source / vir)

*

Danes je prvi zimski dan, zimski solsticij, najdaljša noč. Danes sonce miruje. Pravijo, da bi se v tem času morali zazreti vase, najti mir in zbirati moč, da počasi pridemo na svetlobo. Čeprav skoraj nikoli ne prižgem luči v pisarni, ne maram teme. Moji bivši sodelavci so me klicali Princesa teme, čeprav to nikoli nisem bila. V resnici me tema dela živčno, kar pa ni nujno negativno čustvo. Ni grozljiva, samo ... ne vem ... nekako prevelika, da bi jo razumela. Kot globoka praznina, molčeča in nepredirna. Nič ni tam, čeprav ... morda pa je tam vse.
 
Za Erebusa sem prvič izvedela, ko sem brala članek o Franklinovi polarni odpravi. Spominjam se, da je bil zasnežen dan, oče je šel v trgovino, meni, ki sem ga raje počakala v Fičku pa je pustil Zabavnik. Bilo mi je kakih deset ali enajst let. Zlahka sem si predstavljala obe ladji, Erebus in Terror, kako plujeta med ledenimi ploščami in počasi izgineta v polarni temi. Kdor koli je ladjama dal taka imena ni bil čisto pri pravi. Kasneje sem izvedela, da sta bili sprva bojni ladji in naj bi z imeni zbujali strah v nasprotnikih. Vsekakor jima je takrat uspelo zbuditi strah v meni.

Erebus je eden od tistih božanstev, ki se ga začuda ne spominjam. Personifikacija teme, bog teme, sin Kaosa. Hesiod pravi, da je Kaos brezno, prazen prostor, vrzel ali prostor, kjer obstaja vse. Obožujem to definicijo. Do potankosti ustreza Veliki Vrzeli, ki jo iščem v delih različnih umetnikov, kakor tudi v svojih slikah in abstrahirani kaligrafiji. Samo še nelinearen čas moram dodati in možnost, da se vsi trenutki v času dogajajo hkrati pa bom našla to kar iščem. Bojim se, da ni tako preprosto. Včasih se mi zdi, da nikoli ne bom mogla razumeti te praznine, vrzeli. Spet drugič sem skoraj gotova, da razumevanje nima nič s tem. Morda bi se morala samo prepustiti, nehati misliti in samo čutiti. Morda je tako kot tango, ko odplešeš v Pozabljenje*, kar pa ni nič drugega kot druga stran Praznine, Vrzeli, Kaosa. 

Pa nočni metulj? Ne vem prav dosti o njem, pravzaprav mi ni treba. Lep je in v moji domišljiji ogromen. Predstavljam si ga v akvarelu, v prusko modri, indigo in caput mortuum vijoličasti. Počasi priduši svetlobo in me ovije v svileno temo, dokler ne čutim vonja po ledu, kako mi reže nosnice. 


* Pozabljenje - Oblivion, Astor Piazzolla

 


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