I've been laid up for a few days with a nasty virus which has been doing the rounds. It is remarkable what a degree change in body temperature can do. I could barely get out of bed and even hydration, despite a big jug of homemade lemonade, was a struggle.
Last night a change came through, dropping the temperature, bringing some rain and disturbing the stillness. A blind on the half open bedroom window rattled persistently beyond my reach, the darkness knocking, and feverish I all but sat up, remembering Heathcliff, to call out: "Who are you?"
I've not ever been all that attached to this body, nor believed it was me or I it. At times I wish I could just unzip it head to toe and escaped the silly shell, once and for all, and get on with whatever cosmic business there is to get on with.
There's a classic series by the great American photographer Duane Michals showing the spirit leaving a body. That the spirt looks like a body is no slight oversight, but the concept is fun.
I tried it out, rather crudely. It's a matter of having a long exposure and varying the time the moving component of the shot is in the frame.
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