Ellen Rogers

Toska

Toska
The images you see here are the latest tests from my on going project 'Gnosis' DSC06651DSC06642 DSC06644 DSC06645 DSC06646 DSC06647 DSC06648 DSC06649 DSC06650 IÔøΩve likely been running away from any reasonÔøΩ with regards to confession or meaning. Things seem somewhat woolly at the moment. I am not an academic, my intelligence lays elsewhere in something more esoteric, transcendent. Making logic and arguments something abstract and misunderstood. And in thisÔøΩmisunderstanding I feel alone and in some parallelÔøΩlogic that is safety, because in folly I have belived only there I will find peace. It makes me detached, unreachable and ultimately an island. What started out as a quest for authenticity has become a hindrance, my piety - a cap on spiritual growth which makes everything, even dancing, hard unless in altered states, which by my own code of authenticity, are not me. Its hard to get out of bed again. I know itÔøΩs just a wave. I think to myself, my love, my existence ÔøΩ do what you want with me? I have no self-respect. The one thing I confess in ill conceited pride is that I am completely unafraid. Often I feel the unfortunate tyranny in my blood, the hubris of Norman men, Vikings and the sorry ambulation of English I am - boiled up with a smattering of Slav from my Grandfather. I feel sorry to hear of one talking of themselves like this. ÔøΩ I am at least soothed by thisÔøΩ by the Russian abilty to know utter sadness and to own it. ÔøΩToska - noun /_t_-sk_/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness. "No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.ÔøΩ _ Vladimir Nabokov

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