20 March 2008. Pale yellow gold sky--more resolute from up close. Tiny birds work at scattered leaves near edge of curb. Searchers. Hopping with their shadows in the raking light.
Georges, last night, describing Ozu. "An everyday story." Narrow patch of light falling on a man's cheek. The appearances. As with Benjamin: A Short History of Photography: people's faces in those first few years, before they knew they were being pictured. An openness, incommensurate...
Unmeasureable--one's unbounded space, known in such masterful detail. A personal history of the senses, worked up in relation to all else--lifeboats, lines from Kant, trolley problems, Chip and Joe. All fading away--or merging, rather--into one intimately vast sweep of conocimiento.
Not so much yo sé as yo conozco...
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