Loss: Four letters for four seasons and a day, that
is, for both abstract and calculated time. The story of all stories. When we
start breathing, we are exposed to the after first loss world. Loss
takes place for the first time in human life when the baby comes to light from
the pure darkness and starts the long journey of loss towards happiness. We
cannot be happy unless we lose something, from a condition to an object-subject
of parallel feelings and emotions.
To invent
Loss is the game of adulthood. Loss is to drink my
coffee in the cup which was my present to dad and now it has come back to me as
the Accursed share of Georges Bataille, after his noted loss. While
sipping my coffee, I realize the course of time but I also make a present to my
memory, I renew the old fact which cannot change by adding new content and
remaking the object handy. Memory needs symbols to stay and inhabit.
The full article here:
https://monolithvolume.com/katsadima-everywhere-there-is-loss/
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