IT TRAVELS FASTER THAN THE SPEED OF SOUND. THE FIRST NEWS YOU GET OF IT IS THE BLAST. THEN, IF YOU’RE STILL AROUND, YOU HEAR THE SOUND OF IT COMING IN.
—Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow
IN-BETWEEN. The exquisite limen of suspension, confusion, escalating tension. The swollen moment of unknowing, of neither-ness: of categorical disorder, vanquished faith, Blakean rapture. The blunt thud of what hits you when it hits you before you know what hit you.
It is a state that is, by nature, self-limiting: you can’t linger there for very long. Consciousness, by nature, inevitably returns to analyze, divide, rank, and file. You enter with one foot and exit with the other.
Interstitial spaces. Staircases, ...