The apocalypse is finished, today it is the precession of the neutral, of forms of the neutral and of indifference. I will leave it to be considered whether there can be a romanticism, an aesthetic of the neutral therein. I don't think so — all that remains, is the fascination for desertlike and indifferent forms, for the very operation of the system that annihilates us. Now, fascination (in contrast to seduction, which was attached to appearances, and to dialectical reason, which was attached to meaning) is a nihilisticpassionpar excellence, it is the passion proper to the mode of disappearance. We are fascinated by all forms of disappearance, of our disappearance.
Dying is nothing. You have to know how to disappear. Dying comes down to a biological chance and that is of no consequence. Disappearing is of a far higher order of necessity. You must not leave it to biology to decide when you will disappear. To disappear is to pass into an enigmatic state which is neither life nor death. Some animals know how to do this, as do savages, who withdraw while still alive, from the sight of their own people.
It is perhaps not a surprise that photography developed as a technological medium in the industrial age, when reality started to disappear. It is even perhaps the disappearance of reality that triggered this technical form. Reality found a way to mutate into an image.
The Buddha said, "Elements come together and form this body. At the time of appearing, elements appear. At the time of disappearing, elements disappear. When elements appear, I do not say "I" appear. When elements disappear, I do not say "I" disappear. Past moments and future moments do not arise in sequence. Past elements and future elements are not in alignment. This is the meaning of ocean mudra samadhi." Closely investigate these words by the Buddha. Attaining the way and entering realization does not necessarily require extensive learning or realization. Anyone can attain the way through a simple verse of four lines. Even scholars of extensive learning can enter realization through a one line verse.
Dōgen, Ocean Mudra Samadhi, written at the Kannon-dori Kosho Horin Monastery on the twentieth day, the fourth month, the third year of the Ninji Era (1242), as translated in Beyond Thinking : A Guide to Zen Meditation (2004) edited by Kazuaki Tanahashi.
Me llaman el desaparecido Que cuando llega ya se ha ido Volando vengo, volando voy Deprisa, deprisa a rumbo perdido Cuando me buscan nunca estoy Cuando me encuentran yo no soy El que está enfrente porque ya Me fui corriendo más allá
Me dicen el desaparecido Fantasma que nunca está Me dicen el desagradecido Pero esa no es la verdad Yo llevo en el cuerpo un dolor Que no me deja respirar Llevo en el cuerpo una condena Que siempre me echa a caminar
They call me the disappeared That who when he arrives he is already gone Flying I come, flying I go Hastily, hastily to a lost course When they search for me I am never there When they find me he is not actually me The one they have in front Because I already moved along
They call me the disappeared Ghost that never is to be found They call me the ungrateful But this is not the truth I carry in my body a pain That don't let me breathe I carry in my body a curse That always brings me to walk on