Thursday, November 10, 2011

On Embodiment

(excerpt from an essay I'm currently writing)

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about embodiment. By embodiment, I’m speaking about what’s tangible, like skin, bones, flesh, and blood. And there are also things like the trees, of course, and the paper products made from the trees, the lakes and the carp that scavenge the murky bottom for food. I’ve never been a fan of the tangibles. Taste, touch, hear, smell, sound. Mostly, I’ve seen them only as limitations or, at the very most, things that must be survived or tolerated.
            I like ideas, concepts, plans, fantasies, and expectations. I’m a big fan of love and and adventure and spirituality. Spirituality, it’s always seemed to me, is the place beyond the concrete. It’s the untouchable, inexplicable, the magic of life. In all probability, this love of the ineffability of things comes from my religious upbringing, where there was a clear distinction made between things of this world and the things of God.
            I certainly don’t want to make it sound like I’m all spiritual and serious. I’m quite the opposite, really. I’m irreverent and inappropriate, and my butt crack hangs out the back of my pants way too often. It’s a problem. The lowrise-pant cut helps my figure, since I’m high-waisted and look like a spider in pants that come up too high, but really it is disastrous when I bend over. But, that kind of makes my point: God, way up over there. Sadly, me and my butt crack, right here. To me, God and butt-cracks seem vastly incongruent. 


  1. how. are. we. re. lated. (good writing though).

  2. I don't know why I am just seeing this, but better late than never i suppose. The first paragraph almost made me a little sad, clever, well spoken, almost poetic. I felt the sarcastic, raw and shockingly honest, accurate and brazen, writer i know and love was slipping away. Then your butt crack appeared and all was right with the world again.

  3. mark, i hear ya. trying hard not to lose myself in grad school. reading all these heady writers is making me forget my roots. i'll be okay though, if i always go back to the crack. :)

    sharon: i. don't. know. its always been a bit of a mystery. i'm starting to think my missing frontal lobe may be the missing link.

  4. "Always go back to the crack" - that has to be a t-shirt.. right?

  5. Just found your post at Art House WOW you write soooo well ! (I'm a visual artist and can't write for beans :) ) Loved how you said the F word in Philly :) I teach in Africa and KNOW small town ! Also like Philly for you, I know being the outsider.

  6. Thanks Works! All encouragement accepted and stored.