One poem by Sylvia Plath to which I often return, even now more than 30 years since I first read it, is "The Eye Mote." You can read it in its entirety here. It is a spin on Oedipus, a subject that bores me utterly, but the poem also talks of longing for what we once were, for a kind of vision that life and its expectations steals from us.
She writes:
What I want back is what I was
Before the bed before the knife
Before the brooch pin and the salve
Fixed me in this parenthesis;
Horses fluent in the wind,
A place, a time gone out of mind.
The title of this blog, then, means seeing without impediment--or at least trying to--guided by the imagination, moving freely between object and ether, free and freeform. I want to write to get out of my fixed thinking, to get out of the bounded and marginal.
We'll see.
