signull-blog

[signull-blog]

Indeterminacy

“Ultima pars telae, tenui circumdata limbo, nexilibus flores hederis habet intertextos.”

“And then Arachne, to complete her work, wove all around the web a patterned edge of interlacing flowers and ivy leaves.”

Ovid, Metamorphoses 6.127-6.128

What begins? It may be that the end begins, it being the completion of the work, neatly inscribed by the weaving, the pattern of the edge, its interlaced motif. These symbols, drawn from life, enclose the notion of the weaving within the boundaries of a knowable life, ensconced by the greenery that seemingly occupies the blank space around us. We are positioned as the center of Arachne’s weaving, of her critique, of her perspective. To begin is to be enshrouded in conditions, in conditioning. This is to say, to begin is to have already begun.

In weaving, there is the warp and the weft. But there is also the loom, and the shuttle -- tools, which nevertheless are a part of the weaving. Moreover, there is the weaver. Which is to say nothing of the pattern, itself a concept, not bound by and yet still represented in physical space. Even the division between warp and weft is relational, one does not hold without the orientation of the other. Weaving, though it may seem like a neat organization of parts, is still indeterminate.

In stillness, I can feel the itching of that indeterminacy like a wool sweater. It is the sensation of a thousand beginnings and endings rubbing up against one another, resolving in the present. The resolutions, viewed jointly, are a sort of kinetic friction which propels me forward. Only it is not clear who the “me” is that is propelled, considering the fact that nothing might be moving at all.

“If you want to see which way the tide is going,” she said, “throw a stick into the Hudson and watch it travel.”