Saturday, February 17, 2007
For words are clothes; they are not flesh, not even skin. They are adornment, protection. Each a performative utterance, a costume worn in consideration of others, either for or against. What is naked is something else, something which I cannot name for you; I cannot wear for you. The more I seek to reveal, the more I obscure. Yet it is precisely within those acts of obscuring, each a repeated act of pointing towards, that disclosure might begin to occur.