I went into San Francisco over the weekend and made a stop off at the De Young (my first time) and saw the last day of the Hiroshi Sugimoto show. One of his photos, Sea of Buddha, was taken at the temple of Sanjusangendo in Kyoto, which I visited when I was an exchange student to Chiba, Japan at the age of fifteen. Seeing the Sea of Buddha again, I was amazed by the spaces in-between the deities. As you can tell by this prose poem in progress, or perhaps just a bit of my notes on the feeling of seeing this:
SEA OF BUDDHA
For Hiroshi Sugimoto
The place where my halo touches yours. Where our holiness crosses into one, an ether floating above a divine eye, a ceremonial headdress, a polished bronze. The kiss of the eternal on our pillowed lips. The negative space between deities. The place where hands are held. The form our love takes. The space between body and soul. The microcosm in our breath. The space between in and out. God in all directions, without language to define presence. A diorama of the space between halos is a delicacy, a picture of the horizon over the sea.
My manuscript, The Blind Spot Chronicles aka a picture into my addled brain. Spots of light on the floor of the barn.
The barn in all of its splendor.
A deer at sunset, right before a mist of rain.
Another sculpture of interest, which I saw elsewhere (perhaps the MOMA) which has been purchased by the De Young (fantastic idea, this piece is absolutely what the pinnacle of sculpture can be). The piece, by Cornelia Parker is called Anti-Mass (2005) and is the remnants of a Southern Black Baptist church which was destroyed by arsonists. She has reconstructed what I would call “the ghost of the space” into a perfect square, a haunting.
All for now…off to write more.