Blue Book, Moon Rock
If, as Vilem Flusser says, “texts are a metacode for images” and codify them, and likewise, photographs are a metacode for texts and are a second degree abstraction, what then happens when a fragmentary reality (the “word,” the “rock”) collides with the photograph. The moon is the rock. The moon is not the rock. The moon is (not) the light. The light is (not) the photograph.
A promise made in the past, to discuss the meaning of forgetting in the future, is then altogether forgotten. The word. The forgotten word hovers like light bouncing off silver. “Is shiny a color?”
How do we fix an object, dress it, give it a name?
The rest is here.