Freud’s notions of the incessant tension of Thanatos and Eros manifests itself within the shade of gray. The gray that, much like, Maggie Nelson’s “Bluets” announces itself as the welcomed foe. The color that transcends that which defies reason.
Nelson reflects, “And so I fell in love with a color…the color blue- as if falling under a spell- a spell I fought hard to stay under and get out from under, in turns.”
Strange,,,,,how the gray of loss is the very essence that defines the borders of the soul. It entangles you in its seductive web of sensations.
Pleasure expresses itself within the gray heaviness of recollection. The site of return, in a Freudian sense, curses the ego into the perpetual seductive dance between the Id and superego.
Grayness, of the concrete slabs pooled with the excess of your gone astray mind the imprinted memory of that moment. It propelling you on and on towards that site of return.
Mimetic desire to trace the steps of gray inevitability. The grayness of the dissolved somatic encasing that once expressed YOU. Loss of comprehensible borders between the living and dead tissue.
The animated lifeless frame -the gray (un)qualified mass -to uphold the sweet illusion of comprehension.
Gray..…….oh ruptured agony -sweet welcome friend!
It the somatic memory of you.
It the mass of grief.