Beyond, Where Anything is Possible

There was always something alluring in the Beyond, something infinite, full of possibilities. Something we cannot see but can only imagine or not even that ... only sense that it exists, only feel it or even less, only want to feel it. I liked to watch the sea, the line between water and sky, the non-existent border between the two, promising infinity, echoing countless possibilities, something that hasn't happened, but can or at the same time, it cannot. Flat landscapes give me practically the same feeling. Like the one in a painting An Extensive Landscape with a Road by a Ruin by Philips Koninck. Anything can happen over there, beyond, where anything is possible. It may be similar to the void, the great emptiness. Anything is possible in that vastness. Temporally speaking it is just a moment, a point in the process of creation, a point just before we start creating and when anything is possible. 

We know what is or what could be beyond the horizon in that painting. There is more landscape, towns, houses, inhabited by people going about their business, perhaps there are even other paintings. But then again, we do not know a thing about what goes on beyond, in the landscapes, houses, towns. Inside of people anything is possible. The vast extensive void, far larger than landscape, towns, houses or people, unimaginably spreading itself through towns, houses, landscape and people, like a plague, like the aftereffects of a nuclear explosion, leaving emptiness, speed, fear and infinity in its wake. It's been there forever, slowly taking over without our noticing. We are more and more estranged, abstract, self-absorbed. But what if there isn't anything to be self-absorbed into? 

Beware of the void, of its alluring charm. It devours, it leaves nothing behind ... if we let it, because it's not for anybody. If we dare it gives everything, we just have to reach out and take it. Beyond, where anything is possible.

Philips Koninck - An Extensive Landscape with a Road by a Ruin, 1655, oil on Canvas, National Gallery, London. Philips Koninck - Prostrana pokrajina s cesto ob razvalinah, olje na platnu, National Gallery, London  via/vir

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Tam onkraj je bil zame od nekdaj zelo privlačen pojem, neskončen, poln možnosti. Nekaj, česar ne vidimo, kar si lahko samo predstavljamo ali niti tega ne ... samo zaslutimo, da obstaja, samo začutimo ali še manj, samo želimo si začutiti obstoj neskončnih možnosti. Rada opazujem morje, linijo med vodo in nebom, neobstoječo mejo, ki obljublja neskončnost, v kateri odzvanja nešteto možnosti, ki se niso zgodile, vendar bi se lahko ... ali pa ne. Podoben občutek mi vzbuja ravna pokrajina. Taka kot je v sliki Prostrana pokrajina s cesto ob razvalinah Philipsa Konincka. Tam onkraj se lahko zgodi kar koli, tam, kjer je vse mogoče. Morda je podobno veliki praznini, ki je tako velika, da je tam vse mogoče. Časovno gledano je velika praznina samo trenutek, točka v procesu ustvarjanja, tik preden začnemo, ko je še vse mogoče.

Vemo kaj je ali kaj bi lahko bilo onkraj horizonta v sliki: še več pokrajine, mesta, hiše, ljudje, ki hitijo po svojih poteh, morda celo še več slik. Po drugi strani pa nimamo pojma kaj se dogaja onkraj, v pokrajinah, hišah, mestih. V ljudeh je vse mogoče. Prostrana praznina, veliko večja kot pokrajina, mesta, hiše ali ljudje, ki se širi po mestih, hišah, pokrajini in ljudeh kot kuga, kot posledice jedrske eksplozije, za seboj pa pušča praznino, hitrost, strah in neskončnost. Že od nekdaj je tam, počasi si vse prilašča, le da mi ničesar ne opazimo. Vedno bolj odtujeni smo, abstraktni, zagledani sami vase. Pa je v nas sploh še kaj ostalo, v kar smo lahko zagledani?

Pazite se praznine, njene zapeljive mikavnosti. Praznina požira, ne da bi kar koli pustila za seboj ... če se ji pustimo, saj ni za vsakogar. Če si upamo, nam lahko da vse, samo seči moramo vanjo. Onkraj, kjer je vse mogoče.