The Raft Of the Medusa[]
- Beginning: "When you first climbed up the tower, you saw only a fragile thing, deserving of care and empathy. You did not see the steely bonds with which the giant had stilled me. And neither did you see the tumultuous sea underneath, And how it grew angrier and angrier, in accordance to the giant's fickle spirits. No. You saw the pain, and neglected the wound."
- Stage 1: "It is unsurprising, then, that you were unready for the giant's last dying spasms. For his encounter with demons of his own that would break his will. Unsurprising, and understandable, was your confusion. When the invisible but raging sea swept me away, And where, unmoored and weighted as I was, I sunk to the deepest depths."
- Stage 2: "These depths, I knew well, and had hoped to never visit them again. Within them roamed all manners of vicious beasts: toothed, fanged and scaled. Hungry always, for suffering and pain, for doubts, memories and minds. Every single morsel. To survive I thrashed and I flailed, So much that I managed to shed my bonds, along with strands of myself. And the beasts, as expected, promptly devoured them"
- Final: "Lightened as I was, I floated back to the surface, far from the beasts. It was there that gentle hands plucked me from a gentler sea. And there, as I was lying surrounded by wispy figures, neither good nor bad, I contemplated an image that had been burned into my empty mind. For through the nests of the beasts, a strange glimmer caught my eye: Remnants and wrecks from past voyages, containing treasure of a past long forgotten."
The Great Wave[]
- Beginning: "One memory is so deeply ingrained I could never forget it. The day I started hearing the noise. Faintly, at first, then louder, and louder yet. Plip. Plop. Distant drops of water that only I could hear. Perhaps I saw it as a sign. That I could no longer fit within the warm confines of the family home. And so I left, seeking the source of the noise."
- Stage 1: "In the beginning of my quest, the land was gentle. I remember the tender grass and the soft wind. I kept following the sound of the droplets. All the while paying little attention to the waters rising at my feet. Soon enough, I was wading through a murky and dark flood. Surrounded by a thick fog. And yelps, and growls, and glimmers."
- Stage 2: "From this period there is not much to remember. A vagrancy that lasted an eternity. No dive can ever restore these memories. They have been wiped clean. Picked to the bone. It is as though they never existed. As if fallen through cracks in time. Still, they were. The mud and scratches bear witness."
- Final: "The waters are so high now, nothing pierces them. An endless ocean. Unbearably calm. The murk has dissipated. And the water is clearer than it has ever been. The plip-plopping has stopped. And so, with nowhere to go but down, I dive. But I must do so carefully, delicately. Lest I disturb the silt that has, through the aeons, set into a peaceful but fragile blanket."
The Last Supper[]
- Beginning: "This wreck lies hidden among the reefs and the mud. Only a faint glow betrays its presence. It lies on its side, abandoned and forgotten. But as I get closer, the noise hits me: voices happy and sad, playful bangs and clangs. Within the ship live a great many deal of faceless shades: mother and father, unruly brothers and sisters. A cacophony that is enticing and dreadful at once."
- Stage 1: "One of the shades escapes me. It is proteiform and atonal. Insubstantial. It has a ghastly quality that I cannot easily understand, and it seems to actively resist focus. It takes some convincing for me to accept it for what it is: an echo of a previous self. Remnants undevoured by the depths. Unaware of them, even. A treasure of incommensurable value. I meet it with cautious curiosity."
- Stage 2: "And suddenly, I’m filled with sadness. For I realize or remember one essential truth that, perhaps, I would rather not remember. The tableau before me exudes a chaotic happiness. A family brought together by conflicts and laughter."
- Final: "If, at any point, some all-powerful painter were to judge the tableau, and remove the ghastly, lone shade from it, nothing of the composition would be affected. Unnoticed and untouched."
Rooms by the Sea[]
- Beginning: "After an eternity of drifting, this place took me in. You would not have recognised me. Sunburnt, cracked. Bursting at the seams. A mind bloated with the muddy thoughts of the self and of the other. Useless detritus brought back from the depths."
- Stage 1: "They bound me here, with coarse moorings. And when I roared, and thrashed, and raved, they only tightened the bonds. Brutish methods. But, as I came to understand, efficacious ones. For while they could not see the raging ocean, with its winds and tempests, and its waves that I was forced to breathe in, leaving me hurt and sickly, they seemed to understand that I should not be allowed to sink. This was a trip I would not survive.
- Stage 2: "Things have changed now. The new caretakers, they are...Different. Nary a sound. They move graciously. The wear soft gloves and velvety shoes. They secretly busy themselves around me. An uneasy army of shades and ghostly servants. Always making sure that I never go wanting."
- Final: "And then, Stella, there is you. Moorings, but of a different kind. You are the only one who understands the sea. That it is not something to be scared of, but a miracle to be celebrated. A reliquary of strange and alien treasures. Overwhelming in their otherworldly beauty. Only you can explore this strange world with me, an anchor, a buoy and a lifeline, all at once. Thank you, Stella.
|
