As regards yesterday's post where we struggled between autobiography and philosophy and tried to figure out what was the midpoint between them, and then struggled a bit between the two art forms we saw between them, in the feeling for the image of the world-- a new realization has come to me on this subject which is that criticism lives in between memory and sensation, between analysand and analyst, criticism is very honest to the nature of the perception of time. In a way it is the most honest, maybe. Because you're not analyzing the nature of what you see, or telling your life story, but being both subjective and objective in the form of offering an evaluation. But what we find realizing that is a sort of knot to unravel between criticism and influence, and focus and amplitude. Criticism positions us in subjective position with regards to the objective, as the viewer and evaluator of our life, and all its component pa...
Adventures were made of disappearing things, dispensations on the railway of disenchantment, disputing their depositions for the deliverance of our advent, our advice, and our advance.